The Sky Went Black
by Heath07
Summary: Sequel to "Filament and Flash Bulbs." Summer went back to Newport. Ryan stayed in Chino. What happens when they see each other again? [Complete.]
1. 1

Title: The Sky Went Black

Author: Heath07

Rating: R -language, sexuality

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the people at FOX and the wonderful Josh Schwartz.

Summary: Sequel to "Filament and Flash bulbs." (It would probably be a good thing to read that fic first.) Summer went back to Newport. Ryan stayed in Chino. What happens when they see each other again?

Feedback: Always appreciated. ;)

Notes: I didn't think it would take me this long to start the sequel, but it did. And, well, here it is. Heh.

Chapter 1

* * *

Summer Roberts had been rebelling her whole life. It just so happened that no one had taken the time to notice until her sixteenth birthday...

Being tracked down by her father's secretary in a strip mall and having her ass hauled back to Newport Beach was not the embarrassing part. _That _she could deal with. The realization that she could have avoided all of it had she not been so stupid?_ That_ was the part that really smarted. Credit cards were the devil's play things.

It was a hot night in August when her life had changed. That long night spread to another day and in those two days her entire perspective on the world and the people in it had collapsed. Because she'd met a boy. Ryan wasn't just any boy, though; in fact, he was more of a man than anything... And he'd changed her idea of what was valuable in this world.

She was getting the hell out of Newport and out from under her step-monster's drug-hazed scrutiny and going to the one place where she didn't have to pretend to be anything she wasn't. She was on her way to see Ryan.

It had been three months. Long enough for anyone to forget her, but she harboured hope that their connection had been real. She, at least, had not forgotten him or the way he made her feel. This time she'd planned more thoroughly, more wisely. Money her father gave her for clothes, tanning and entertainment had all been stashed away for this very moment.

When she'd gotten back, for once in her life her Father had begun to pay attention...that lasted a week. Then he got bored. Sixteen-year-old girls just didn't have a lot in common with fifty-three-year-old plastic surgeons. Well, that was untrue. But since Summer was fairly happy with her body and had never considered a nose job or any other form of plastic surgery, that pretty much solidified their total lack of common ground. Maybe if Summer were grotesque, or one of her boobs were bigger than the other, her father would take a larger interest in her life. Not that she wanted her dad anywhere near her boobs... 'Cause? Eww! She supposed she should resent him for that, but she didn't have it in her anymore. Her thoughts were consumed with escape. There was an entire world out there that she didn't know existed until Ryan showed her. And she wanted to see it all. With him.

The comfort of her new BMW was a welcome change from the mode of transportation Summer had first used to get to Chino. If she never got on a bus again it would be too soon. Traffic thinned out as she headed down the stretch of road that was going to lead her to Ryan's home.

She'd thought about Ryan a lot over the past few months. Wondering how he was... If he thought about her... It was a stupid mistake not to get to know him better, to at least get a phone number or something. Summer had tried to look it up in the phone book, but the number was unlisted and her step-mother had taken a latent interest in what she did while she was at home. It was like being under house arrest. Every room she went into her step-mother seemed to follow. She supposed her father had put her up to it. Anything to get more pills.

It was at school that Summer had begun to plot her escape. She'd even preregistered at Chino High using the name on her fake I.D. It was easy to remember. Only her last name was different and some of her birth information. Summer Stephens. So it wasn't that original. She'd practised using her new name in front of the mirror until she could say it without missing a beat.

Summer pulled into the driveway of the familiar house. At the end of the drive, there was something big and bulky covered under a tarp. It was difficult to see in the dark. Keeping the motor running, the headlights illuminated it, piquing her curiosity. Getting out of the car, Summer stepped up to the curious item and pulled at the green covering. Underneath her fingers found cool metal. Instantly, she knew what it was. Ryan's motorcycle. Lifting the material away, she examined the bike. The chrome was shiny and felt smooth under her fingers. Closing her eyes, Summer remembered being on the back of the bike, clutching onto Ryan with the wind in her hair and a weightlessness flowing through her body. Smiling faintly, she covered it back up and walked back to the car, cutting the engine.

The night was cool, the October air smelling faintly of rotting wildflowers from the overgrown garden. The porch steps creaked a little under Summer's weight. The house was in darkness.

Maybe Ryan was asleep.

She felt her pulse speed up, her heart skip. Taking in a breath, she knocked on the door. There was no response. After she'd tried again a few times, she felt lost. This time, she'd come with a plan. She just hadn't anticipated that Ryan wouldn't be around to take her in.

Looking around the empty, quiet street, Summer wasn't sure what to do. Standing in place, something on the lawn caught her attention. Squinting through the darkness, she realized it was a 'For Sale' sign hammered into the ground. Her stomach dropped.

Glad that she'd had the sense to wear a sweater, Summer wrapped her arms around herself and sunk into a chair beside the door. She rocked back and forth. What if Ryan was gone? What was she going to do now? The chair held her in its rusty arms, wobbling as she shivered against the light wind.

The tears came without notice and not until one slid down her cheek did she realize that she was crying. Why did Chino always have this effect on her?

Everything had depended on coming here and reuniting with Ryan. She hadn't really even considered that Ryan wouldn't be around anymore.

He'd promised her.

Summer took in a shaky breath. It had just occurred to her that she really didn't know him at all. It wasn't the first time a man had lied to her and it probably wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Ryan felt numb. Due in part to the half-a-dozen beers he'd consumed since walking through the door. It wasn't his nature to drink so much. Usually, he just had one or two with the boys after work, but tonight he felt all the pressure that had been consuming him for the past few months come crashing down on him.

He spent his nights watching the door at The Hole- no, wait, it had been renamed Rhythm and Brews by some out of state yuppie looking to fix up the joint and make it more hip. Ryan still hadn't gotten used to it. This was the very place where he had first set eyes on Summer. The very place he hoped to run into her again. Most nights he nursed a beer while enduring taunts from Layla and the rest of the guys. Sure, he knew the chances of Summer walking through the door were slim, but that didn't mean that it couldn't happen.

After one month had gone by, followed by another, Ryan's hope began to disintegrate. But Summer had sworn that she would run away again and the earnestness with which she'd said it and the determination in her eyes, had convinced him that she would. Now, though, he just wanted to forget about her. She was probably on a beach somewhere laughing about the poor guy in Chino she'd snowed over. Ryan shook his head. Summer wasn't like that. There had to be a reason she didn't come back. Still, he knew he was kidding himself if he expected her to walk through those doors after all this time.

Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder. He'd been too distracted to hear anyone approach.

"Hey, Ryan. Haven't seen you around here much."

Ryan looked up and met the eyes of Adelina Ramirez --a girl he occasionally saw during a dry spell. Her big, brown eyes were full of promises.

He sighed, it had been so easy to take a girl home before he'd met Summer. So easy to allow himself to get lost and caught up in the pleasure and to never have to think of tomorrow or of commitment. But now, things were different. He hadn't gotten laid in over three months. He could track it back to the exact day Summer stepped into his life and made him believe he was worth more than a one-night stand.

"Hey, Lina." He used his old pet name for her. "Been busy."

Picking up his beer, Ryan took a long pull, barely tasting the liquid as it slipped down his throat. He set it back down, shifting his weight.

Adelina's hand moved from his shoulder and slid down his arm, touching the skin where his work shirt ended. She moved her fingers up and down, raising the hairs on his arms. It had been too long without the touch of a woman. "So, you maybe wanna hang out tonight? It's been a long time since we... Well, you know."

Christ. Ryan knew he should just say no, get up and walk away. But three months was a long time to go without sex. And, despite all Lina's flaws, she had always been good in the sack. Forget that he'd called it off after she'd started to get too attached and mistook their sexual relations for an actual relationship.

Could he do this? Could he go back to the guy he used to be before Summer had turned his world upside down? It would be so easy to revert back to his old habits, simply give in. In Summer's eyes he was a stand-up guy and as much as he hated being mislabeled he wanted to be that guy, a hero...at least to her.

But three months was three months. And Summer wasn't coming back. He had to accept that. Ryan could use some release. A chance to forget, if just for a little while.

The debts kept accumulating and Ryan was in over his head. He'd gotten a call from his mother a month back and wasn't surprised to learn that she'd found herself a new boyfriend and had no intentions of coming back. After Trey got busted and sent to jail, there wasn't much point in keeping up the house payments. The best thing to do was to sell the house and get what he could out of it. Possibly start his own life fresh. Seventeen years on this earth and he already had the responsibilities of someone twice his age. At least Randy, his boss at the shop, had given him an opportunity. Letting Ryan apprentice as a mechanic after he'd gotten busted trying to boost a car was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He picked up his beer from the dirty table -despite the new sign outside, things were still pretty much the same on the inside. Ryan drained the bottle and stood. "Let's go," he said and led her out the door.

He was almost thankful the motorcycle had broken down. Because he certainly wouldn't be able to drive like this. It was a good thing Adelina had her own car.

Ryan got into the passenger's seat and strapped on the seatbelt. The car was old and the motor hummed a little too loudly for there not to be a problem. Adelina settled into her seat, putting on her own seatbelt. One hand went to the steering wheel, the other landed on Ryan's thigh. Maybe after everything was over he'd take a look under the hood for little Miss Ramirez. It was the least he could do.

Unrolling his window for much needed air, Ryan took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. The wind rushed over him, cooling his face and helping his stomach settle. From the moment he'd gotten into the car, he'd had a bad feeling.

Adelina was nibbling on his ear and unbuttoning his greasy work shirt even before they made it onto the porch. Forgetting was going to be easy tonight.

A noise to his left drew his attention. He looked, blinked and then blinked again, not believing what he saw.

The first thing he said was from the thrill he got of seeing his Princess on his doorstep waiting for him. The second thing? he probably should have put more thought into. "Summer?! Fuck!"


	2. 2

Thanks for the replies. It's good to know some people are still interested. :)

Chapter 2

* * *

Low-slung jeans, expensive fitted-sweater moulded to every inch of her ample breasts, make-up just right and fingernails shined up and freshly manicured. It was Summer all right. And she was pissed. 

Summer stood. "I guess you're not too thrilled to see me?"

Ryan was shaking his head. Words were not coming to him no matter how hard he tried to think. "No, no. It's not..." Wait? Why was he apologising? She was the one that had been gone for three-fucking-months while he put his life on hold for her. He modified his tone, made it more casual. "Bad timing?"

"I'll go," Summer said, a quiver in her voice.

He hated that it got to him. That _she_ still got to him.

"No! Don't. Please?" He caught himself sounding desperate. Looking to his right, he saw Adelina sizing up Summer and felt his face heat. Ryan Atwood begging? The boys at the shop would love this one. "Lina, could you...?"

Adelina had always been smart. She caught on quick. "Yeah. See you around, Atwood. Call me when you lose Prom Queen over here."

Ryan smirked despite the look Summer shot him. It was really just a natural reaction to hide his nerves, but he knew Summer wouldn't buy it.

It was so typical. The one day he decided to let loose after acting like a monk for three months and Summer just had to show up the very same day? The Gods had a very twisted sense of humour.

Adelina got into her beat-up Dodge and the engine groaned to life. Both Ryan and Summer were silent until the car was halfway down the block. They stared at each other, a little wary.

"Uh..." Why was it he couldn't complete a single thought in her presence?

* * *

Summer spoke before Ryan had the chance to continue. "So...I guess I wasn't so special after all." She'd forgotten about her tears. The only thing that seemed important was the anger burning through her blood. 

Ryan took a step forward. "It's not like that."

Summer mussed her hair and wiped her face with her sleeve. She regretted it almost instantly when she remembered how much she'd paid for it. And that, right there, was why this unholy union had no chance of flourishing. Because she was still the same spoiled Newport brat she'd always been. Ryan had seen that three months ago when he'd christened her with the nickname Princess. They were too different. Their worlds were too far apart. Too much time had passed.

Well, this Princess had left Newport twice and was determined to stay away this time. "It doesn't matter. It's late, I'm tired and I need a place to stay. As soon as the sun comes up tomorrow, I'll be out of your hair."

"That's not..." Ryan shook his head. "Look, I didn't think you were coming back. It's been three months."

"I-I know." Summer concentrated on biting her lower lip instead of looking into his eyes.

"I thought maybe you'd gotten it all out of your system and had come to your senses, realized what kind of life you'd have if you came back." Ryan was steadily easing closer, almost close enough to feel the heat coming from his body.

She lifted her eyes and he was right there in front of her. Those big, blue eyes staring at her. And that smell. Motor oil, cigarettes and sweat, and underneath it all, soap. Ryan. She'd missed it. And now she remembered why she'd been pining away for him. Why she'd been so determined to come back here. "No, it wasn't that. I-I wanted to come sooner, but I was afraid... I thought maybe I was fooling myself."

Ryan seemed to accept that. He looked around.

Summer saw the curtains to the house across the street quickly close and a figure press back into the shadows.

Ryan fished around for his keys. "Should we go in?" Unlocking the door, he stepped aside and let her pass.

"Right," she scoffed as she walked by, "'cause we wouldn't want the neighbours to see me kick your ass."

Summer Roberts was angry and she was having no trouble expressing that anger. At least she was still the same. Still the girl trying to be tougher than she was. He really did admire that about her.

Ryan pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He searched his pants for his lighter and avoided Summer's eyes. "So, you're back," he said. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. It was all he could do to keep his hands busy. Touching her would be a very bad idea.

Summer crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked her hip. "I'm surprised you noticed,

what with the skank attached to your ear and all."

"Summer."

Summer rolled her eyes. "Spare me, Ryan."

She examined the room they were standing in. Ryan watched her. He didn't have a clue what she was thinking. The living room was empty save for a bunch of boxes. Paint cans and rollers sat on a tarp. There wasn't one piece of furniture in the room. Not a couch. Not even a lamp. Nothing.

"Okay, like, what happened to all the furniture?"

"Storage," he answered, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. "The, uh, the real-estate agent told me it would probably sell better if I did some work on it."

"Oh, yeah, I saw the sign. So...why are you selling it?" She bit her lip in that nervous way he remembered, and he knew she was feeling out of place, exposed.

And goddamn him, he wanted to kiss her. Was it possible for Summer to have gotten better looking in three months? She looked good. Sexy. The pants she wore outlined her ass in a way that made Ryan think she knew exactly what she was doing when she got dressed that morning. He shook his head. He wouldn't let himself be dragged into her life again. Into her problems. Because she was a walking problem. A way to complicate his simple life. "There's no reason to keep it and I can't keep busting my ass to make payments for a house that I'm barely in to begin with. Some people have to work for a living."

Summer's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Well, it sounded like an underhanded dig at _me_." Her eyes were so dark and full of heat that Ryan had to look away. It was too easy to get caught up in her again.

Ryan smirked. "I was just stating a fact...Princess."

Summer cocked her hip and pressed her arms tighter around her torso. "Yeah? Well, here's another fact: I don't like you very much! What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?! What happened to you?"

Summer looked more than offended, murderous more likely. "What?! How dare you!"

"Look, Princess, I'm no good for you; I thought you would have figured that out by now. Why don't you go home to daddy."

Summer shook her head, looked at her shoes. "This isn't you."

"How would you know?" Ryan responded, frustrated.

"I guess I don't. It doesn't matter; tomorrow I'll find another place to stay."

They really didn't know each other. Not at all.

Looking at her, pouting expression and dangerously dark eyes, he had to wonder to himself why he hadn't gone looking for her himself. It really hadn't sunk in how much he had been pining away for her until she was right in front of him with her brazen little attitude in full bloom. And it wasn't until then that he realized how scared he was of his feelings.

Fuck! Why was he being such an ass?

Because it was easier.

It was easier if she hated him than the alternative. What did he know about rich girls and their needs? What did he know about relationships at all? Because that's what she wanted. She wanted him to be that person he was three months ago and he knew if she got to know him he'd only disappoint her.

Ryan smoked his cigarette and watched Summer; Summer shifted her weight and looked at the half-painted walls.

It was obvious that she was determined to stay in Chino, with his help or not. He knew she had no where else to go. He decided to take mercy on her. "You got any stuff?"

"Stuff?" she said, coming out of the trance that she'd settled into so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Oh yeah, my bags are in the car."

"I'll get them," Ryan offered. He could be civil for one night.

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't want Princess to break a nail now, would we?" His tone was just light enough to let her know that he was teasing; that he was trying.

She smiled. "No, we wouldn't, especially since I just had them done." Summer threw him the keys. Ryan caught them easily. "Everything's in the trunk."

"You can sleep in the room you had last time."

Summer nodded and turned to go.

Ryan stepped outside and threw his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. This was going to be interesting.

The beds had already been taken apart. He'd moved all of his Mother and brother's junk out of the house. And there was hardly anything in the fridge. Grocery shopping hadn't been high on his priority list. He got most of his meals at the little restaurant across the road from the shop. Sometimes Randy's wife would stop by with his lunch, and, knowing Ryan didn't have anyone around caring for him, would sometimes bring him in baked goods and sandwiches and tell him to make sure he ate because he was still growing. Ryan always humoured her because she was a good cook, and because he liked her. They'd both been really good to him. They made better parents in the year he'd known them than his own mother and father had his entire life.

Between night school and work, Ryan had barely been home. The only time he got to relax was when he was sleeping. On the weekends, he worked repairing little things around the house to make it more 'presentable' and 'appealing.' Ryan would have been resentful if he had the time to be.

And now he had Summer to worry about. As if he didn't have enough burdens on his plate. At least this burden looked good in a tank top.

He turned the keys in the lock and opened the trunk. Inside were two suitcases and some smaller bags. He hauled the larger suitcases out of the car and closed the trunk, bringing the bags into the house. Ryan set Summer's things in the middle of the living room and wiped his forehead. They weighed a ton.

Summer came out of the bathroom wearing baby doll pajamas a.k.a. practically nothing. Ryan had to force his jaw not to drop. He was not going to get to sleep tonight.

"Oh, good. I need my toothbrush," Summer said, walking into the living room. She bent down and unzipped one of the bags, rummaged around a minute and then produced a toothbrush in a pink plastic container. "Found it!"

Ryan nodded. His mouth was dry and his eyes wouldn't focus. He'd bet anything that she done that on purpose. Tease.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" Somehow that question didn't seem innocent coming from Summer in her barely-there pajamas (if they could even be called that) and her sex eyes.

Ryan cleared his throat. "No. I have to paint."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, okay. Goodnight." She smiled. It was soft and made her eyes darken and made Ryan hard.

"Night," he murmured, turning his back on her.

Ryan peeled his work shirt off and threw it on the floor. Grabbing one of the paint cans, he'd abandoned the day before, he poured some paint into a tray and took up a roller. At least this would take his mind off of everything. For now.

* * *

Summer had listened to Ryan working on the house almost the whole night. Picturing him in the next room, bare-chested, sweating and hard at work, did nothing to make falling asleep come any easier. She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from sneaking around the corner and taking a peek. It was the steady sound of paint slurping onto the wall that had finally lulled her to sleep. 

She was thankful she had no where to be, no one to report to. Not that her father had been the militant type -half the time he had no clue where she was and vice versa, but still, it was good to be her own person, living on her own terms, even if that had been the case for only sixteen hours.

When she had dressed, she walked into the kitchen.

Summer yawned. "Morning."

Ryan was sitting on a chair with a mug of coffee. His hair was still wet from the shower. It hung in his eyes and dripped water down his cheeks and eventually his chest. In just a wife-beater and undone coveralls tied to his waist, Ryan personified sex.

"Hey," he said, standing.

Even his voice was sexy.

Summer took in a deep breath. That had certainly woken her up. As much as she wanted to hate Ryan, she just couldn't. Not when he looked like that.

She took another look around, for the first time noticing the strong smell of paint and turpentine. She turned up her nose.

Ryan leaned against the counter. "There's coffee. I, uh, don't really have anything to eat."

Summer nodded, filled a mug and took up the abandoned chair. "I've decided I'm not going back and I'd like to stay here if you'll let me."

"What?!" Ryan sputtered, close to choking.

Summer folded her legs and leaned back. She'd thought about it a lot last night. She took a long sip of coffee before she spoke again. "I don't know who that girl was last night and I realize I have no real claim on you, but you were good to me once and I'm hoping you'll let me stay here again until I can make it on my own."

It was clear Ryan was taken aback. "Yeah, no. Stay as long as you want. And that girl? She's no one. I mean, I haven't..." Ryan sighed. "I didn't think you were coming back."

Summer scoffed. She didn't mean to be so pissed, but it hurt and she couldn't pretend it didn't. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

Ryan ducked his head, sipping his coffee. "So your dad doesn't know you're here?"

Summer concentrated on her nails, the polish was a deep shade of red and perfect. Why couldn't everything be so beautiful?

Because the world was an ugly place, she thought.

She didn't want to talk about her father. Not with Ryan. Not with anyone. The hurt was still too fresh, too deep. "I'd rather not talk about that with you."

"I just thought-"

"I'm fine. I've got it covered...for a while, at least."

Ryan set his mug in the sink and turned on the tap. Returning to the side of the counter, he leaned against it and folded his arms across his chest. The muscles in his arms jumped. Summer had to force her eyes away.

"Running away isn't going to make things better. It only took him two days to find you last time. How long do you think it's going to take before the police are busting down my door?"

"They won't. I told my father I got accepted to this elite foreign exchange program. He thinks I'll be in France for an entire year. When he finally figures it out, he'll be so mad he won't care where I am." Summer didn't care how smug she sounded; she was proud of the lie she'd concocted.

Ryan scoffed. "You don't really believe that."

"It's true. You'll see." Her tone was sombre. She knew it as the truth even if Ryan couldn't see it. "Good thing he doesn't know french."

"Do _you_ know french?"

"A little. Enough."

Looking into his eyes, she remembered the night she'd sobbed all over him while she spoke of her crummy life and realized how stupid and selfish she must have seemed compared to him and his real problems. 'Wah, her daddy didn't love her.' But at least he provided for her. At least he gave her a home and food and clothes. That was more than Ryan's parents were giving him. That was more than a lot of people had.

Things had been so easy before. Of course that may have had to do with the fact that Summer had been distressed and Ryan had come to her rescue. Now, with all things being equal, everything was more difficult, complicated. If she was honest with herself, she'd allow Ryan to hold her again like he had three months ago. And this time, she might ask him to never let go. But Ryan was already picking up his jacket and not looking at her anymore. He was out the door and off to work. And she was doing nothing but watching him walk away. Ryan had moved on.


	3. 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Ryan didn't need a lot of motivation to put all his energy into fixing up the house so it could be sold. He wanted to get rid of it. He needed to be rid of it. He had to get out from under his mother's thumb and start living for himself. Dawn hadn't been back home for months and Ryan didn't miss cleaning up her messes, but he missed her. As stupid and contradictory as it was, he missed having someone to look after; having someone just be there all the time. He'd never been allowed to have a purpose outside of being a pseudo-parent to his mother and now he had the whole world in front of him and it was more frightening than the beatings he'd received as a child had been.

With Summer, things were so tense it was starting to drive him insane. And the sexual tension? There was enough of that going around to keep him standing under cold showers for twenty minutes at a time on a daily basis. He was pretty damn sure it was too cold out to be wearing skirts and low-cut tops all the time. Of course, Summer took fashion over practicality any day. And she also liked to see him squirm.

He worked off all the frustration Summer brought to his life with a hammer on the front porch as he fixed the loose railing, every nail a testament to how crazy she drove him; he could forget about her and her impossibly dark eyes as he re-grouted the bathroom tiles; and he could pretend it was the paint fumes that made her look incredibly sexy flipping through a magazine and scowling at him.

Ryan finished the repairs and painting on the third day after Summer's arrival. After a month of procrastination, Summer had turned out to be the motivation he needed. The realtor suggested having an open house on Saturday. Ryan agreed and let him arrange everything.

He picked up an extra shift at the garage so he wouldn't have to be there while people scrutinized his humble abode. Work kept his mind occupied.

* * *

Summer spent half the day at the mall before she got bored. She would never have believed it herself had she not been living it. It wasn't that she didn't have the money to buy new things. Because she did. But all the excitement was gone. Everything she looked at reminded her of that cheap floozy nipping Ryan's ear. It was an image she wanted to forget. Was that how Ryan had seen their time together in the summer? Was Summer the one deluding herself and thinking they had something more, when in actuality, Ryan was just going with the flow? Was she just another one of his _women_?

Why was this so difficult? She still felt every bit as anxious and excited in Ryan's presence, but reality had clicked into place and she'd realized that everything she really knew about Ryan she could count on one hand.

It was time to get to know what made Ryan Atwood tick.

Summer picked up lunch at a diner across from the garage and dodged two lanes of traffic with the food pressed against her side. She hoped she hadn't squashed the sandwiches she'd bought them. This was a start. A peace offering. The white flag to put an end to their feud. She hoped to walk away from this lunch as friends.

Stepping into the garage, Summer surveyed the area. The first person she saw looked very familiar. It took her a minute to recognize Randy without his baseball cap. It was his eyes that she remembered. His hair was combed and parted to the left, his face clean shaven and his eyes bluer than the sapphires on her earrings. He'd been there that first night she got to Chino and had even given her a twenty dollar bill to buy drinks.

Summer approached him.

"Hey, there!"

Summer smiled. "Hi. Randy, right?"

"That's right." Randy offered her his hand and they shook. Summer's hand looked so tiny inside of his. He was a big man, tall and thick. At one time in his life he'd probably garnered the attention of many ladies. Now he was a bit bulky around the middle and he looked tired, deep in the bones tired; but there was still traces of handsomeness in his face and the shadow of his former self in his eyes.

"I remember you from The Hole. Heard you got yourself into some trouble."

"A little. Ryan helped me out," she said, shifting the bag of food to her other hand.

Randy smiled. "Atwood's a good kid. Had himself some trouble, too, a while back, but he's always there when you need him."

Summer nodded. She liked the twang in his voice. She could probably listen to him talk the whole day.

"I felt mighty guilty about that night. Yes siree, mighty guilty." He shook his head. "I don't think it was right of me to encourage you to buy drinks when I knew you wasn't old enough. Thought about it for weeks until my wife told me to shut up already. Wives are like that. Want you to talk to 'em and when you do, they want you to shut up." He laughed. It was loud and scratchy and tickled her eardrums. "Good lord! I never been one for all this 'talking about your feelings' crap, but I sure did feel guilty. I'll be sure to tell the wife when I get home."

"I can pay you back now," she said. Summer reached into her purse and extracted a twenty.

Randy stepped back. "You just keep that now."

"Take it. Please."

Randy folded her hand around the money and patted the back of her hand. "Keep it, Darlin'. It'd help ease my conscience and set me right with the Lord. Alright?"

Summer nodded. "Okay."

"Now, I know you didn't come here to see an old man like me, so you must be looking for someone more your age. Ryan's working on a Trans Am out back. You just go right through that door, toward the back, and you should find him just fine."

Summer watched him point to a door at the end of a row of tires. "Thanks."

"Bye, now."

Watching where she stepped, Summer avoided a puddle of grease and a set of wrenches on her way to the back door. She watched Ryan for a minute through the window. He looked exhausted. He'd been sleeping on an air mattress on the living room floor and Summer knew it couldn't have been too comfortable. He'd sacrificed his mattress for her.

They hadn't talked much in the days since she'd arrived. Ryan always found ways to avoid her. He left early for school. Stayed late at work. He was giving her plenty of space and time to think things over. She knew in the back of his mind he thought he was doing her a favour. That if he left her alone enough she would come to her senses and retreat, go back home and forget this town even existed. He thought that was what she needed. Summer knew different. She hadn't spent three months thinking about him for nothing. He was what she needed...even if they weren't ready to admit it yet.

Nerves were making her hands shake as she twisted the knob to open the door.

"Randy, you want to take a look at this? I've gone over everything twice and it still isn't running right."

"I'm not Randy. Sorry." Ryan pivoted around, the floodlight he held slipping out of his hands and narrowly missing his foot.

Ryan stared at her for so long she started to feel uncomfortable.

"Hey," she said, hoping to crumble the wall between them.

"Hey," he responded, wiping his hands on a rag. "What are you...? I thought you were at the mall."

Summer shrugged. "I was. I got bored."

"Of shopping?"

"I was just as shocked as you, believe me." They exchanged a smile and Summer felt that familiar pull in her stomach.

Ryan tipped his chin at the greasy bag in her hand. "What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, this?" Summer set the bag on a plastic table that was home to a lighter, screwdriver and ashtray. She pushed those items out of the way and opened the bag. The smell of fried food hit the air. "I brought you lunch."

Ryan looked surprised. Another wave of excitement washed over her.

He picked up the light, checked to make sure it still worked and set it on the car. Turning back around, he leaned against the car and wiped his hands again. His coveralls were filthy with dirt and his white t-shirt underneath was stained with grease.

Summer shifted her weight. Things were so weird, she wondered if she'd made a mistake in coming here. "Do you want me to go?"

Ryan stood. "No, it's not that." He looked at his hands and then back up at her. "I'm just going to go wash up."

Summer nodded. Ryan passed by her and she caught his familiar scent. She stood motionless for a minute, and then, catching herself, began to unpack the sandwiches, french fries and drinks that had been meticulously packed.

Ryan took a long time to come back. Summer nibbled on a french fry, sipped her water and tried not to look at her watch. When he did return, Ryan was in jeans and his hands were near spotless, even his nails looked like they had been through a good scrubbing.

Ryan sat down on an ancient-looking stool across from Summer, who'd settled into a plastic lawn chair. He picked up half of his sandwich. "Looks good," he said. He tried to smile, but his eyes were sceptical.

"You're wondering why I came here and why I'm being nice."

Ryan sighed. "Yeah, kinda."

"I'm not going back to Newport and you're the only person I know here and I need your help."

Ryan nodded. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed slowly and washed it down with a gulp of soda.

Summer covered her face with her hand, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"What did you mean then?"

"Last time...we connected, you know? And I just think if we start out slow, get to know each other, then maybe this won't be so bad. You have no reason to help me and I've been a complete bitch."

Ryan snorted.

Summer chose to ignore it.

"I don't mean to be. It's just- I've always gotten whatever I wanted."

"Don't all Princesses?"

Summer laughed despite herself. "Clever."

Ryan smirked. "I try."

"The point is: you had no reason to help me at the bar and you have no reason to help me now, but you are and I appreciate it and I guess I could have handled things better considering how nice you've been to me... I was hurt and upset and I'm not used to not getting what I want. So, thank you." Summer felt hot all over. Ryan was staring at her the same way he had that night on the porch when they'd kissed. She cleared her throat. "So, do you think we can make this work? We can be friends, roommates?"

Ryan didn't make her wait long for a response. "Yeah," he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Thanks for lunch."

Summer nodded, surprised things had actually turned out well. "Yeah, no problem."

Ryan stood, grabbed his cigarettes off the table and pulled one out of the pack. "I don't want to rush you out of here, but I really have to figure out what the hell is wrong with this car."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Summer stood.

"Will you be okay on your own for a few hours?"

"Yeah, sure. I can find something to do." Summer smiled and began to pack away the wrappers and used napkins. A thought occurred to her and she turned to face Ryan. "Oh, one more thing."

"Hmm?" He blocked the wind and lit the tip of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke.

"I want to sell my car."

Ryan blew out a cloud of smoke. "Why?"

"I need the money." Summer fidgeted. "And before you even say not to worry, it's not your job to take care of me and you shouldn't have to. I have some money, but selling the car seems the right thing to do. It'll be liberating. The ultimate f-you to my dad," she smiled, feeling empowered by the statement. "Besides, once he figures out I lied to him he'll lock up my trust fund and kick me out of his will."

Ryan shrugged. "If you say so. I'll talk to Randy about putting it out front."

"Thanks. See ya later, Ryan."

"See ya, Princess."

Summer turned around, scowling at him until she couldn't hold in her smile any longer.


	4. 4

Thank you for the reviews so far.

Chapter 4

* * *

Apartment hunting was not something Ryan was looking forward to, but having sold the house he had no other choice. The open house had led to an offer and foreseeing no other way out, he had accepted. After dealing with the bank, Ryan was left with a little money. When he managed to track down his mother on the phone-drunk, no less--she had told him to keep it for himself. Ryan didn't like the idea. It felt like she was paying him off; like she was terminating all responsibility, which, if he thought about it logically, she'd done a long time ago. He'd been taking care of himself since he was eight. She was sorry for being such a crappy mother and he deserved better. He didn't know which hurt worse: believing that was true or believing it wasn't. She told him to be better than she was. Ryan didn't think that would take much and then felt guilty for having thought it.

With the money, he could finally afford the parts to fix the bike and a security deposit as well as first month's rent. Summer seemed excited and that raised his spirits a little. At least they weren't fighting today. It was touch and go with them. One minute things seemed fine and the next he caught sight of Summer and he felt his stomach knot up. This friends gig was harder than it looked. A guy like him was never just friends with someone like Summer. And it was taking everything in him not to haul her over his shoulder and drag her into the bedroom like a barbarian.

The first apartment in their price range was in a neighbourhood that even gave Ryan the chills. The building looked like it was about to collapse and if he wasn't mistaken the women on the corner were not waiting for the bus. He was also fairly certain one of the first floor apartments was up to some illegal activities. This was not the kind of place he felt safe living in. Expecting Summer to live here was out of the question. Still, Summer seemed determined to show that she was more than that defenceless rich girl he'd met a few months ago. She'd put on a brave face for most of the day, but even she couldn't deny how disgusting the building was.

Summer took one look inside and walked right back out. "No, definitely not."

The realtor had the decency to look apologetic when Ryan glared at him. True, showing apartments generally wasn't part of his job description, but Ryan didn't have the time to look through the paper and scout out locations. Anyone could be persuaded for a price.

Ryan leaned close to the man wearing a cheap brown suit and a pin on his label, declaring 'Big Lou is the realtor for you!' and said, in a voice quiet enough for Summer not to hear, "How about you take us somewhere that's actually liveable, huh, Big Lou?"

Big Lou was still small enough to let Ryan's words shake him. "Sorry, Sir."

Summer, from behind the man, looked at Ryan and tried to hide her smile. She mouthed 'Sir' and snickered.

The next two apartments were an improvement but only just. There had been one beautiful apartment at the edge of town that was ridiculously out of their price range. Ryan hated the way Summer's face fell when they found out that rent was twice what they could afford.

It was starting to get dark outside when they entered the last apartment building. Ryan had hope. The outside was well maintained and the halls didn't smell like urine. Summer took her time looking through each of the three small rooms: a bedroom, kitchen/living room split and bathroom.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Summer met Ryan's eye. "I like this one. You?"

Ryan, instantly feeling relieved, decided to play it cool. "Doesn't matter to me. If you like it, it's fine."

"I like it," she said with a smile that tore at his heart. God, she was beautiful. Ryan was beginning to get an ache in his chest every time she looked at him. That couldn't be a good sign.

* * *

It rained the morning they moved in. A light drizzle that wet through their clothes by the time the last box had been set on the floor. 

The neighbours kids watched from the streets, abandoning their games and chatter, fascinated by the big moving van.

A few of the boys from the shop helped carry in the big things like the bed, some chairs, a tall dresser and a television set. Ryan and Randy hefted box after box while Summer tried her best to keep up. It was a struggle to get the couch up the narrow staircase and Ryan smashed his hand a few times, cursing under his breath.

Ryan was quiet as usual. Summer hadn't said much either. There was an awkwardness that hung between them that neither knew how to fix.

Randy left them after everything was unloaded so he could be home in time for dinner. His wife ran a tight ship, he'd said, but it was obvious how much he loved her. Summer thought they were the sweetest couple she had ever met. It was unusual to find people in love like that. She'd never really seen it herself. Her father's marriage to her step-monster wasn't the most conventional relationship ever. Summer didn't even know what they had in common besides plastic surgery, money and medication. So Randy's marriage was a good lesson in happiness and the first one Summer had seen up close. It made her hurt a little for one of her own. Ryan was so distant most of the time, it was hard to know what he was thinking and feeling. She sometimes wondered if he ached for her at night the way she did for him.

The boxes were scattered around the living room with barely enough room to get by. Summer thought it would be easier to start in the bedroom. The bed had been put together by Ryan while she'd settled the kitchen. It didn't seem fair that she was the one getting the bedroom when it was Ryan's money paying the rent, but he insisted on being chivalrous and would be sleeping on the couch. It was at least an improvement from the air mattress he'd been occupying while they were at the house.

Unwrapping a framed print from one of the boxes, Summer knew the perfect location for it.

The hall was dark and when Summer flipped the lights they flickered and then the bulb burnt out. "Shit!"

Summer stood frozen, unable to see and afraid of tripping and injuring herself. That was the last thing they needed. Paying a large medical bill would be less than idyllic.

"I'll get it," Ryan offered, grabbing a chair and propping it underneath the light fixture. "Hold this?" he said and handed her a new lightbulb. Summer set the framed print behind her, propping it against the wall so it was out of the way. How Ryan saw in the dark Summer didn't know. The scant light from the living room was barely visible from where she stood, but it seemed to be enough for Ryan. He mounted the chair and unfastened the bulb.

Summer handed him the lightbulb and took the burnt one. Ryan squinted, struggling to see as he blindly tried to screw in the lightbulb. Losing his footing, he grabbed the back of the chair, regaining his balance.

Ryan jumped down. The apartment was still in darkness and the rain had started again. Summer moved in the darkness looking for the garbage can. She bounced off of something hard and solid. Ryan. His chest pressed against hers and she could feel it when he inhaled a breath. Her neck got warm and her skin tickled as he exhaled against her neck. "Sorry."

"No, it was my fault," he said and stepped back, flicking on the light switch. Yellow light flooded the hall and Summer blinked back the sudden brightness.

Ryan stretched his arms out behind him, wincing. He rolled his shoulders and grimaced.

"Does your shoulder hurt?"

"Nah, it's fine."

"I could...?" Summer took a step toward Ryan. "Do you want me to...?" For some reason, she was finding it hard to actually say out loud what she was suggesting. Was it really a big deal? Well, yeah, it was. Since Summer had gotten to Chino, they hadn't really touched, not like last time. And, yeah, it was weird. Time had not eased the attraction between them. If anything, the attraction had become a warped, intense burn.

* * *

"It's okay. Really." That was the last thing Ryan needed, Summer touching him. Her, with her incredibly soft skin and long nails, kneading his shoulders? No, it just wouldn't work. It would just lead him to do inappropriate things. Like grabbing her, hoisting her up, pushing her into the wall and licking her skin until every last raindrop was gone... Somehow, he didn't think that would improve their situation. 

Summer shrugged it off, but Ryan was good at reading people and he knew, at least to some small extent, he'd hurt her feelings. She thought he was rejecting her.

"You're going to have to register for school," he said. It wasn't the best segue, but it was all he could think of.

"No problem. Already taken care of." Summer smiled and it looked smug. Always the tough girl. "I used the name on my fake I.D."

Summer's hair curled from the rainwater and instead of making her look unkept, it added to her mystique. He wanted to run his fingers through it, test the softness.

Keep talking, he told himself. It kept his mouth occupied. It relieved him from doing something stupid. "Summer, have you really thought this through? There's no shame in going back home."

"Is that your way of trying to subtly tell me you don't want me here? Do you want me to go?"

Her mouth was sharp, testy. She was pissed. He loved the fire that exploded in her eyes.

"No, no. Of course not." He wondered what would happen if he kissed her. The space between them started to shrink. "I just want you to really think about what you're doing."

"I have thought about it! I spent three months thinking about it, and even if this wasn't what I pictured... I'm not going to go back now."

"What did you picture?" His legs were moving, edging ever closer to her. The situation was becoming dangerous. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from continuing forward.

"I don't know. I just...I thought it would be different. I thought that things between us would be different."

Something flickered her eyes. Somewhere between arguing and petty fights, he'd missed all the signs. Everything had been forgotten, or at least forgiven.

It was what he'd been waiting for. Some small indication that that spark was still between them. He wasn't alone in his feelings.

He saw his chance and seized it. Her lips were soft, pliable, opening for him and letting his tongue enter her mouth. The taste of strawberries and rain blended together to create a hot downpour across his tongue. They melted into the kiss. It was a kiss they'd been waiting on for well over three months now and it was worth ever precious second.

Ryan pulled away, the taste and smell of strawberry lip balm still close. Last time it had been apples. He wondered what fruit he would taste on her lips the next time. "Like that?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

She tried to act tough. She tried to be older than what she was. She tried not to be so innocent. Ryan saw all that inside her eyes and more. He saw the hint of vulnerability and innocence that still lingered, pushed back inside where Summer thought she hid it well.

Strawberries. He could smell the sweetness of them; could taste their flavour dancing over his tongue as they kissed a second time. There was an entire field of them wrapped into this one little kiss. It grew in intensity. Everything was moving faster than Ryan could process. Every sense was heightened. Was she aware that she was leading him down a path to hell?

Hips shifted. The heat from her crotch bled through her pants and warmed his thigh.

She kissed him again, rocking against his thigh, rubbing against him.

Holy fuck!

Ryan pulled away before he wasn't able to. She had no fucking clue how much power she possessed. Trying to reign in his sanity, Ryan stood frozen. His entire body was rigid. His _entire_ body. It was going to take plenty of cold water to make this hard-on go away. And, even then, he wasn't sure that would do the trick.

"We have plenty of time," he said, recovering. He pushed the hair off her face. "Let's not rush into things." Ryan hadn't said anything like that in his entire life and it shocked him a little. Who said things like that anyway? He just hoped it didn't show on his face.

Summer nodded, though, he wasn't so sure she realized how close he was to laying her down on the floor and teaching her everything he knew about pleasing a woman. He wondered if she'd change her mind, given the vast knowledge he possessed. Ryan didn't like to brag about that sort of thing, but he'd been with his fair share of women and he'd learned something different from each encounter. He was fairly sure Summer would benefit from him being such an apt pupil. In time, he hoped to find out. But not now. Not when the wounds that had separated them were still fresh from healing. He had to take things slow.

Summer took a step back, straightening out her clothes. "No, you're right; we shouldn't do this. After all, we agreed to be friends, right? Roommates? Nothing more." She picked up the picture frame and turned down the hall, not sparing a glance back.

Ryan felt the sting of her words. Maybe it was better this way, easier.

He hoped she hadn't caught on to how far out of his element she was taking him. Everyday he knew her, learned more about her, he was farther and farther away from keeping her out of his heart.


	5. 5

Chapter 5

* * *

The school was nothing like Harbor. There was no tennis court or swimming pool, just a rusted basketball net and pavement. Summer felt a wave of nausea hit her. This wasn't what she was used to, but that wasn't why she was freaking out. She'd just caught her first glimpse of some people entering the building up ahead. And that, more than anything, seemed to make what she was doing real. For as long as it took to get her diploma she was going to be lying to these people. Everyone, her teachers, the principle, and if she were lucky enough to make some friends, was going to believe she was someone she wasn't. In Newport, she'd always pretended to be someone she thought people would like. This seemed different, bigger somehow.

Summer walked inside, her eyes adjusting to the change in light. The bell rang just as she was sitting down in the classroom she'd been assigned to. The classroom was loud and she felt eyes on her. Summer looked down at her clothes. She was going to have to start dressing differently if she didn't want to call attention to herself. No one else seemed to have a Prada backpack.

When the teacher spoke, Summer found herself doing something she hadn't before. She listened. She paid attention and took notes, absorbing the information being doled out.

Even more surprising, Summer found herself raising her hand during class. In Newport, she'd always let the boys answer and reassured them that it was okay if they didn't know the answer, saying something like: 'it was a stupid question, anyway', but here she didn't have to lie and she didn't have to be ashamed of the brain she'd developed over the years. Here, it was okay to know the answers.

The class migrated to the library. Summer hung back in the reference section and listened to a group of girls gossiping. She realized she wasn't interested. The books had more to offer her.

It was insane. She could just picture herself trying to explain to all her superficial friends at home. They would think she was sick.

Suddenly she realized that for the first time, she wasn't lying. Maybe she was lying about her last name, but not about who she was. This was who she'd been born to be. Her whole personality had been staunched in Newport. The first day at this school, she'd discovered herself.

It was at lunchtime that Summer ran into a problem. Literally. She hadn't been watching where she was going and ran straight into a short brunette that seemed vaguely familiar. "Sorry," she said. A group of girls had surrounded her.

"Look, it's the Prom Queen!"

"Who?" one of the girls asked, ignoring Summer.

"Hi," Summer said, weakly. Finally she placed the girl. How she hadn't recognized her before was a mystery. Maybe it was the lack of make-up...or the fact that she had books in her hands instead of Ryan's shirt.

"Atwood's latest," Lena commented to her friends.

"No shit?!" one of the girl's commented, smacking her gum. "A little prissy for him, don't you think?"

"Excuse me, I'm right here." Something cold settled in her heart.

"So you are!"

"I don't know what he's thinking; she looks pretty high maintenance to me."

Summer felt the ice begin to melt and the fire that was her temper heat. She didn't have to take this. "Do you mind not talking about me as if I'm not here?"

"Ooh, attitude. I bet he likes that."

Lena cocked her head to the side, her face dropped with something that could have been sympathy. "Honey, just so you know, he's not exactly relationship material."

"You're so polite, Lena. What she means is that he's not exactly the type to give you flowers and candy. One thing you can always count on Ryan Atwood for, though," the girl said, a look of faraway triumph on her face. The other girls giggled like they already knew the answer.

Summer didn't waver. Showing weakness was not going to make people respect her. She'd dealt with much worse than this at her own school. "Yeah, what's that?"

"He knows how to fuck."

_That,_ she hadn't been expecting. What did she say to something like that? Summer felt herself blush. The sound of the bell saved her from coming up with a clever retort. Clutching her books to her chest, Summer pushed through the crowd and headed for class, ignoring the laughter behind her.

Ryan was in the living room when Summer got home, busily painting the walls. She felt a little sorry for him. By the way he moved, she could tell his shoulder was sore. It had been bothering him from the painting he'd done at the house and now he was painting the apartment to make it nice for her.

His work shirt and boots were on the floor. Sweat was glistening on his shoulders and neck, the cotton wife-beater he wore was sticking to his skin and his hair was plastered to his head. Turning at her arrival, he set down the roller. "How was your day?"

Summer set her bag on the counter and reflected on the day she had. She tried to come up a word for the event in the hallway. "Interesting." That summed it up well.

"Interesting, how?" he asked, distractedly.

"Met a few of your old girlfriends." Her voice was a little bit sing-song, mocking. She used the term 'girlfriends' loosely. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know the sordid details. In fact, she was positive she didn't.

Ryan stopped painting. "Huh? Who?"

"That _girl_ and a bunch of her friends." Summer didn't even bother to keep the distain out of her voice.

"I'm sure they had plenty of things to say," Ryan muttered under his breath.

Summer kept her eyes on him, watching as he grew more uncomfortable the longer she took to answer. He wasn't just sweating from exertion anymore. "They warned me about you and your womanizing."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did you believe them?" There was an edge to his voice that Summer couldn't place. She shrugged it off.

"I've seen it for myself, Atwood."

Ryan rolled his eyes. He laughed and there was a hard, sarcastic bite to it. "Right, how could I forget."

She smiled. "Don't get grumpy; I was just teasing you."

"Right." Ryan rocked back on his feet. "You hungry?"

"Don't worry about it."

Most of their meals had been take-out for the last couple of weeks. While easy, it was also expensive. They were going to have to start budgeting their money. Summer had decided that if this was going to be her life, she'd better learn how to cook. Because starving wasn't the best way to prove she was capable of being normal. Yes, it was true that at her home she'd had someone to wait on her hand-and-foot, and she'd never put much stalk in anything domestic. But that didn't mean she couldn't learn.

She'd even taken out a cook book from the library and marked a few things she planned on trying. From the state of things, it looked like Ryan had been surviving, doing things on his own, for quite some time. If a boy could do this, so could she.

Ryan had gone back to painting. "I thought we could order pizza tonight. Let me know when you get hungry."

"Actually, I thought I would make us dinner."

"You know how to cook?" Ryan was just barely concealing a smile.

"Don't sound so surprised. There's a lot about me you don't know. Besides, it can't be that hard."

Ryan stopped, looked over his shoulder at her. "Didn't you have a maid back in Newport that cooked and cleaned for you?"

"Yeah, and?" Summer shifted her weight, cocked out her hip.

"Nothing," Ryan said and returned to painting.

"You obviously have something to say."

"Me? Nope. "

"Go ahead, I know you're dying to." Summer waited for his sarcastic reply.

Ryan shrugged. "Nothing. Just, you know, good luck."

"Thanks!" Summer pivoted around.

"There's a fire extinguisher under the sink," Ryan teased.

Summer picked up a roll of paper towels and threw them at him. Ducking out of the way, it whizzed past his ear.

"Ass!"

Summer retreated to the kitchen, filtering out Ryan's laughter.

* * *

An hour and one severely burned casserole later, Ryan entered the kitchen to clean up. The counter was covered in flour, dishes were stacked high in the sink and Summer was up to her elbows in suds.

Ryan reached around her, his arm grazing her side. Summer jumped. "Sorry, just trying to get to the sink."

"Oh."

"Dinner's almost ready."

Ryan chuckled. "It looks like it was ready twenty minutes ago." He turned on the tap and ran his hands under the water.

"Shut up! It's not that burnt." Summer looked on the stove at the concoction barely passing as food. "Okay, so maybe when they say 350, they really mean 350. I think it was pretty good for my first try."

"Uh huh," Ryan said and tried to keep his face neutral.

Summer shook her head and laughed. "Okay, it's horrible, but you still have to eat it."

"Okay, but I can't right now."

"Aren't you hungry?"

Ryan grabbed some paper towels to dry off his hands. "I have to shower and then head to class."

"Right, I forgot. Well, I can wrap it up for you for later," she said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Summer wiped her hands on a tea towel. She fidgeted with a piece of cellophane.

"Hey," Ryan said, taking her hand. His grip was firm and reassuring, soothing. "Thanks"

Summer looked up, smiled.

Ryan showered quickly. He only had half an hour to get to class and it was a ten minute walk from the apartment. He considered taking the motorcycle, but he hadn't gotten around to fixing it so it ran perfectly. "Gotta go, I'm late. Lock the door behind me."

"I will, don't worry."

Ryan didn't feel stupid for worrying. He hadn't forgotten the kind of trouble that Summer attracted. "Just...be careful. Don't open the door to anyone." Ryan sighed. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Ryan, relax." Summer took him by the shoulders. "I'll be fine."

"I should be back around ten."

"Okay."

Ryan was ready to give more instructions. Summer beat him to the punch. "Go. I'll be fine. And besides I've got homework and the T.V. to keep me company."

Ryan nodded and attempted a smile. Summer pushed him all the way out the door and laughed, closing it behind him.


	6. 6

Chapter 6

* * *

During class Ryan could barely concentrate and was more than thankful for the fifteen minute break the teacher allowed them after the first hour of lessons. Smoking a cigarette, Ryan found a payphone and fished a quarter out of his pocket. As much as Summer seemed okay with being on her own, he knew that it was sometimes difficult to be alone in a unfamiliar environment. And that Summer, being the tough girl that she was, would never admit to being afraid. Not knowing the phone number by heart yet, Ryan pulled a paper from his wallet where Summer had written the number in her neat scrawl and dialled. It took three rings before someone picked up.

"'ello?" Summer answered, out of breath.

"Hey, it's me."

"Ryan? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything okay with you?"

"Are you checking up on me?" He could hear the smile in her voice.

"No, I just..." Ryan fought the blush that tinted his cheeks. He rolled his eyes. God, what was she doing to him? "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, I'm okay, so stop worrying."

Ryan leaned his shoulder against the wall. "What were you doing? You sounded out of breath when you answered."

"I thought I'd unpack some of your stuff," she said.

"You don't have to do that." And she didn't have to do that for him. It was his responsibility. It wasn't her crap cluttering up the place.

"I know; I wanted to."

That surprised him. "Oh."

"I found a photo album," she said. There was a uncertainty in her voice.

Ryan straightened. "Oh, yeah?"

"Is it okay that I looked through it?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He took another drag off his cigarette.

"Maybe when you get home we can look at it together."

Ryan felt a tug at his heart. Home. "Yeah," he said, his grin widening. "Yeah, that'd be okay. Look, I gotta go. See ya when I get back?"

"Okay," Summer said, distracted. "Bye."

Hanging up, Ryan butted out his cigarette and followed one of the students--who'd been on the stairs sipping a soda--into the classroom.

It was past ten before Ryan got home. He used his key to open the front door when Summer didn't answer his light knock. For a second panic flooded him. The chain was off the door and there were papers, boxes and a bunch of his crap all over the place.

Then, he saw her, right in the middle of the mess, lying on the floor, photo album under her arm.

Summer was out cold.

In the kitchen, Ryan set his books on the counter. The smell of charred food hung in the air. He lifted the corner on the covered plate Summer had left out for him. It was cold and indistinguishable. Deciding that he wasn't all that hungry anyway, Ryan picked it up and placed it in their near-empty refrigerator.

Walking a few steps to the living room, he stood next to Summer. Stepping over to her, Ryan got down on his haunches and tapped her shoulder. She made small murmuring noises, but didn't wake. He looked at her body. She was curled up; her tan, smooth legs barely covered in a pair of shorts; her midriff was bared, the thin material of her tank top barely concealing her breasts; her collarbone and neck were lightly speckled with sweat, making her glow in the lamplight; her cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat and her hair was loose and tangled and slightly damp. She certainly made a picture. God, she looked so small. Ryan took in a deep breath, he knew that day at the bar that she was going to turn his world upside down, he just hadn't known that he'd be thankful for it months later. Moving one hand under her neck and the other under her knees, Ryan lifted her with ease into his arms. Her head lolled onto his shoulder, her arms automatically circling his neck.

He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the mattress. She protested in her sleep and clung to him tighter. Ryan gently eased her hands from around his neck and pulled the thin sheet over her. Summer shifted and sighed. Ryan watched her for a minute before he caught himself. Sure she was asleep, he bent down and laid a soft kiss on her forehead, knowing she wouldn't remember in the morning. This was nothing like putting his mother to bed after one of her binges.

Summer looked so innocent and sweet and entirely too good for him.

"Night, Princess," he whispered.

Ryan grabbed a pillow from the bed, he shut off the light and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the living room where he settled himself on the couch. The air was hot and stuffy. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep in his clothes. Standing, Ryan pulled off his t-shirt and stripped his jeans, leaving him in a wife-beater and boxer shorts. He opened the window a crack and let the night breeze flood over him.

Sleep refused to come to Ryan. The photo albums sat in the middle of the room, taunting him. Sitting up, he turned on a lamp, stretched out and grabbed one of the books. Ryan thumbed the side of the album. The cover was faded and the edges were starting to peel. Opening the book, he saw his ten-year-old face looking back at him. It was a school picture. The kind with the horrible blue backdrop and washed-out lighting. There was no gap-toothed smile or shining eyes, or even a mischievous smirk on his face, just a full-on stare at the camera with no emotion.

Flipping the page, he saw more of the same. A few pages later, there were some pictures with his brother, a picture of his father and mother, one of the house in Fresno and some of his cousins. In all of them, though, he couldn't find one picture when he was genuinely smiling. Times were tough back then. They were always poor, but they managed. They'd had some good times, maybe not that many, but enough.

The footsteps were light and slow, barefooted tiptoeing. Ryan looked up. Summer was standing in the hall, leaning against the archway, watching him.

"Hey."

"Hi," she said, her voice thick with sleep. "Did you carry me to bed?"

Ryan nodded.

"Thanks." She came fully into the room, scooting beside him on the couch. Ryan closed the book, but Summer took it from his hands and opened it.

He looked at the picture again.

"You don't look very happy," Summer said, yawning and letting her head fall against his shoulder.

Ryan closed the book, set it on the floor and gave it a gentle kick. "It's a school picture."

Summer rested one hand on his thigh, the other rubbed down his back. "In any of them. You don't look very happy in any of them."

He looked at her, caught her eye and tried to smile. "There wasn't a lot to be happy about, I guess."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Why did women always ask men that? Hell no, he didn't want to talk about it. He'd rather be put through Chinese water torture than talk about it. It was in the past and talking about it was not going to change anything.

"No," he said and settled back against the couch. He took her hand in his and examined it. "You've got tiny hands."

"Trying to change the subject?" she teased.

"Yeah, is it working?"

Summer settled back, fitting perfectly against his shoulder and chest. "Fine, you don't want to talk about it and I respect that, but if you ever want to-"

"You're the one to talk to. Got it." The air crackled with tension until Ryan broke it. "Thanks for unpacking my stuff and cleaning up."

"Thanks for not yelling at me for going through all your stuff."

"It's just stuff."

"Yeah, but some of it was pretty personal. You know, like your box full of porn," Summer teased, testing him.

"Hmm, I was looking for that."

Summer hit him with a cushion. "Ass!"

Ryan smiled and closed his eyes, putting his arm around Summer and bringing her closer.

After a minute, Summer spoke up. "This is nice."

Ryan nodded, his chin catching the softness of her hair.

"So, I was thinking..."

"About?" Ryan said, drained.

"About this whole friends/roommates thing..."

"What about it?"

"I was thinking it was a dumb idea."

Ryan opened his eyes. He looked down at her. She was staring at him. It was barely light enough in the room to see her face and her eyes were so dark it made it hard to believe her. Something had changed. Though, he wasn't sure what.

He knew they would end up here sooner or later. And the decision to take things further would rest on him. It didn't help that he was so weak when it came to her, especially when she was wearing so little clothing. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she used that to her advantage. Because she knew _he_ would never turn her down. Only he had, hadn't he? Because she was still sixteen and with the innocence of someone half her age.

Summer didn't wait for a response. She reached over, stroked his face, and then angled his head down to hers. Her mouth was hot, sharp and not so innocent anymore.

He kissed her back, seeking her mouth with his tongue. Holding onto him, she let him lead them. Let him have control. She shouldn't have. It was too much. Not enough. Too fast. Too slow. Working his hands, under and up her shirt, Ryan layed her back on the couch. His hands filled themselves with her breasts, her nipples hardening against his palm.

Wiggling under him, Summer took his thigh between her legs. Rubbing against him, she stopped kissing long enough to gasp. It was torture. He needed to pull away. But all he could think about was three months. Three fucking months!

Her little hands worked his undershirt up and over his head. His bare skin touched her stomach and she shivered in his arms.

It was so wrong. She trusted him. Expected him to know when to stop. Expected him to stop.

She was killing him.

"Summer?"

"Don't stop."

Ryan sighed. Fuck! Why did she have to say things like that? And why the hell was he stopping?

Because it was the right thing to do, his conscience told him. She wasn't ready for this.

Pulling away and sitting up, Ryan ran a hand through his hair. "I just... I don't know why I can't, but I can't."

Summer closed her eyes. Ryan braced himself. He wasn't sure he could handle crying. And he was too tired to fight. And too horny to let his morals get in the way if she gave even the slightest indication that she really wanted this.

Summer sat up. Ryan moved to accommodate her. Letting her feet find the ground, she stood. Straightening out her clothes, she turned to look at him. "Well, come on. If you're not going to de-virginize me, we might as well go to sleep. This couch is lumpy."

Stunned. Ryan was completely and utterly stunned. "De-virginize?"

Summer smiled faintly. "What, it's probably a word!"

Ryan was still in shock. That was it? She wasn't going to get upset? She wasn't going to make him feel guilty? "That's not- forget it."

"I promise not to molest you in your sleep. Cross my heart," she said, motioning an X over her left breast. She held out her hand, waiting for him to come with her.

Ryan shook his head and took her hand, standing and letting her lead them into the bedroom.


	7. 7

Thank you for the reviews.

Chapter 7

* * *

Ryan decided to stay late at the garage again. Things were weird at home. Every time he saw Summer, he wasn't sure what to do. Whether he was supposed to act like he didn't want her in the worst way or just go back to how things had been. Because he did. Want her, that is. He'd never wanted any woman as bad as he wanted Summer. Which was the odd part. Because he could have had her by now, but there was something...something he couldn't define, holding him back. He'd always respected women. Everything was always consensual and he'd never pushed. But, with Summer...with Summer, it was like he needed special permission or a sign telling him what direction to go, how to proceed. Because it was more than respect. It was a feeling deeper than anything he had words for.

The garage was quiet. Everyone had gone home. Ryan tinkered away at an engine. He'd been distracted the whole day. In the office, from the corner of his eye, he could see Randy at the file cabinet sorting out some paperwork.

Randy had been married a long time. He was always going on about his wife. Telling everyone he could get to sit long enough to listen, not to get married. Deep down, he was crazy about his wife. Everyone knew it. Hell, even Randy knew it.

The lights in the office went out. Ryan tried to look occupied.

"Everything okay?" Randy was walking toward him.

"Yeah. Just thought I'd get this done before I went home. I should have done it earlier."

"Well, don't stay too long; your little lady's bound to get worried 'bout ya."

"Randy?"

"Yeah, son."

Son. Ryan liked when he said things like that. Even if he didn't mean it in that way.

Ryan took in a breath. A deep breath. "It's nothing, it's just..." Ryan couldn't think of anything to say.

"Woman troubles?"

"Yeah, sorta. I dunno." Ryan smiled sheepishly. "How could you tell?"

"You've got that look to ya. It's that little brunette number that came 'round here before, isn't it? Summer?"

"Yeah."

"Got it pretty bad, don'tcha son."

Ryan nodded. He was sure he was taking a big risk here. The last thing he needed was this to be spread around the garage. He'd never hear the end of it.

"I'll tell ya a little story. Back when I was young, I had me plenty of women. All kinds of 'em. Lined up just to talk to me. Back in the day, I was quite the catch. Sorta like you, eh?"

Ryan laughed. He wasn't sure what Randy was getting at.

"Well, this one day I was just going about my business, tom-catting around and I see her. I can remember it clear as a picture. She was wearing a blue dress and had some of them barrette things in her hair. You know, all fancy like." Randy closed his eyes as if he could see it. "By God, she knocked the breath right out of me. For weeks all I did was look at her; just couldn't bring myself to talk to her. Built her up so bad in my head, I was afraid when I finally did, she'd disappoint. Well, I was wrong. She exceeded all my expectations. It felt like we was the only two people in the whole world. Still does. Everyday. You find someone who makes you feel like that, you gotta hold onto it, you know?"

Ryan nodded again. There really wasn't much he could say. His thoughts were racing.

"Don't get me wrong, sometimes she gets on my nerves, frustrates me so bad I think I'll snap. Oh, we fight an awful lot, but I love her even when I hate her...maybe especially then. " Randy shook his head and let out a hearty laugh, putting on the jacket he'd been carrying.

They were both silent for a minute. Randy caught up in memories. Ryan trying to form thoughts to express his gratitude.

"You know I appreciate everything you've done for me this past year, right?" Ryan ducked his head, hiding his embarrassed blush.

"Hey, it ain't nothin'. Come 'n think of it, I don't know what I did without ya. You're a good man, Ryan; don't let anyone make you think any different."

"Thanks, Randy. That mean a lot."

Randy cleared his throat, and if Ryan wasn't mistaken, he'd guess his cheeks were a shade of red as well.

"Alright, the wife is gonna be plenty mad if I'm not home in time for supper. Go on, get outta here."

Ryan smiled and watched him go.

* * *

It was Saturday night. School was out for the weekend and Ryan didn't have to work. He'd been picking up a lot of extra shifts to try to save up some money. Summer admired how determined he was.

A typical Saturday night in Newport consisted of wild parties or lavish dates with the wrong kind of boys. Summer used to dread the social events she was forced to go to and the boys her friends told her to go out with. She didn't miss it one bit. Saturday nights in Chino with Ryan had become Summer's favourite time. Sometimes they went out, but mostly they stayed in. It was free and they got to be alone. It was one of the rare times when Ryan got to relax and didn't have to shoulder so much responsibility.

Summer hadn't let that one nasty experience at The Hole stop her from enjoying the art of dance. There was something about music that freed her; that made her believe that anything was possible.

Swaying her hips, her body twirled around, her arms above her head and around her middle, outlining every asset that men found attractive. Her legs, she had always thought were too short and too skinny to be considered sexy, lead her around the room. She danced around Ryan like she was performing an ancient ritual and rain was about to swell in the clouds and pour down as soon as she commanded it to. It was a silly, unplanned thing to do. And yet, she didn't feel silly doing it. Ryan never made her feel like anything she did was dumb even if she knew he thought it was.

For Ryan, everything had to have a purpose, a meaning. Summer didn't believe that. If Ryan could just give up control, even for a minute, she knew it would allow him to see that sometimes life was about spontaneity as much as it was about surviving. She held out her hand, curled her fingers and dared him to join her.

Ryan's smile was big and his cheeks were flushed. "You're crazy. Clinically insane."

"Maybe," she agreed, taking his hand in hers. "Come on, dance."

Ryan shook his head, but his smile remained. "I don't dance."

"That's too bad 'cause I do."

"Good, I'll just watch."

"Uh-uh Mister. Come on, it's freeing." Grabbing his wrist, she could feel his heart racing under her palm.

"It's stupid," he complained.

She urged him closer, begged him with her smile to come closer still. "Silly, maybe, but not stupid. Have you ever really even tried to dance?"

"I'm not dancing." Ryan looked determined. However, Ryan obviously wasn't aware of how tenacious Summer could be when she wanted something.

Summer's eyes turned dark, hazed over with lust. "What will it take to persuade you?"

Ryan smirked, his eyes dropping. They scanned her body, moving over her like a thin sheet of silk. She could actually feel it.

Stepping up so their toes were in-line, Summer leaned close. She breathed him in. The usual strong scent of motor oil and smoke wasn't as prevalent as the sandalwood soap Ryan had just showered with. She took his bottom lip between her teeth, nipped it gently. He had a great bottom lip. "Convinced?"

Ryan tilted his head to the side, took her face in his palms and kissed her. It was slow and soft and left her a little dizzy. "Now I am," he said and his voice was low and grainy like an old record.

The music changed. The hard pop beats were replaced by a slow jazz tune. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she swayed with him to the rhythm.

"See, isn't this nice?"

Ryan wasn't very light on his feet. His body was rigid and his head was leading his actions. "For you, maybe."

"Get a little closer and put your arms around me." The saxophone swirled in the background and bounced off the walls encompassing them just as Ryan's arms circled Summer's waist and his hands settled on the small of her back.

"You're very bossy," he teased.

"Only when I dance." She wasn't just flirting, she was seducing. Summer pushed her body against his, matched their chests together and liked the way they seemed to line up in all the right places. The tension began to ease and he allowed her to lead, giving up control. She had earned his trust.

"Uh-huh." The hitch in his voice told her Ryan wasn't immune to her charms.

Summer rested her head on his shoulder, playing with the tiny hairs at the back of his neck where they were soft and curled upward. "You know, my grandpa told me once that he fell in love with my grandma the first time they ever danced. He hadn't even spoken to her yet."

Ryan snorted.

"You're sceptical; I can hear it," Summer teased, raising her head to scold him. "But have you ever actually watched two people falling in love? It's like they're dancing to their own music." Ryan looked down at his feet, making sure not to step on Summer's toes. She tried not to giggle seeing his cheeks glowing in the lamplight.

"Is that what we're doing?"

Air had stopped flowing to her lungs. Her chest felt tight. "Nah, you have two left feet and no rhythm. I regard dancing very highly and you just don't make the cut. My poor toes wouldn't be able to withstand it."

"Funny," he said, resting his forehead against hers.

"_I_ thought so."

His hands slipped under her shirt. A warmth flooded through her, burning through her blood and making her skin feel alive. Every nerve ending was awake and sensitive to his touch.

"I guess you're not that bad," she whispered.

They swayed slower as the music died, leaving them pressed against each other and the rest of the world seemingly far away.


	8. 8

Thanks for the feedback. ;)

Chapter 8

* * *

Summer rolled out of bed at noon. The smell of bacon and pancakes called her out of her sleep and when she opened the bedroom door, it was Ryan, bare chested and setting out platefuls of food, that woke her up quicker than coffee ever could. 

"Morning," she said and wrapped her arms around him. His skin was warm and smooth under her fingers. She felt very grown-up touching him the way she was. "Let's go for a drive today. I want to take the car out one last time before I sell it."

"Whatever you want."

They'd talked about it, and despite Ryan's insistence that they were doing okay, Summer wanted to contribute. They were making rent and putting money away only because Ryan worked such long hours. When he started skipping class to take on a second job, Summer put her foot down. Ryan reluctantly spoke to Randy about finding a buyer. Randy had said he'd see what he could do. It was just as well, the car only served as a reminder of her life in Newport; a life she never wanted to go back to. And a father that thought she was in Europe studying art or history.

It was well past two by the time they'd cleaned up from breakfast and stood in front of Summer's black BMW.

"You drive," Summer said, dropping the keys into Ryan's hands.

Ryan shrugged and got into the drivers side. "Where to?"

"Anywhere!"

And so they went. Driving around Chino and the surrounding area without a care in the world until the blaze of police sirens forced Ryan to take notice.

"Shit!"

"Just keep going!"

Ryan spared a glance beside him."What?!"

Summer was panicking. "Ryan, if my dad figured out I'm not where I'm supposed to be and the cop runs my plates... He could have reported the car stolen for all we know. Let's just go."

"I have a record. If I get caught I'll go back to juvie. Or they'll find out I've been living on my own and try to send me to a group home."

Summer felt tears forming in her eyes. She couldn't go back. Wouldn't. "Ryan, please. I can't go back."

"Summer." The furrow between his brows was deep and pleading.

"You don't know what it's like in that damn sterile house with that horrible woman and a father that doesn't care." She wouldn't be able to handle the loneliness. Not anymore. Not when she knew what was out there. What love felt like.

"If we do this, there's no going back," Ryan said sternly. "We'll always be running."

"But we'll be together. He won't let me see you. He'll have you locked up. He'll say you kidnapped me. Ryan, please. _Please._"

Ryan kept his eyes forward. "I can't and I won't let you screw up your future." Ryan pulled the car to the side of the road and eased to a stop.

Sitting back in her seat, Summer wiped her eyes.

The policeman took his time coming to the vehicle. Summer could see Ryan's grip slip on the steering wheel as his palms sweated.

"License and registration." His voice was monotone. It reminded Summer of those operators answering services had.

"Is there a problem officer?"

The policeman took the paper and card Ryan handed him. "You didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign a few blocks back." He took his time looking at the license and then back to Ryan.

Summer felt an unexplained protectiveness come over her. She got an idea.

"This your car?"

"It's mine," Summer said and batted her eyes at the officer. Her looks had helped her get out of tickets before and she wasn't ashamed to used her beauty to keep the heat off Ryan. "It was a gift from my father."

The officer smiled. Actually smiled. Summer knew any real threat was gone. "Pretty expensive gift."

Summer laughed and it sounded fake and hollow in her head. He didn't seem to notice. "Daddy's a plastic surgeon in Newport. I was just letting my boyfriend test it out." The quirk of Ryan's eyebrow did not escape her attention.

The officer nodded, pulling out a notepad. "I'm going to have to write you a ticket."

"That's fine. Perfectly reasonable. Right, hon?"

Ryan nodded. Summer could tell he was clenching his jaw by the way the muscles in his cheeks danced.

The officer scribbled on the note pad and tore off a copy. "Here," he said, handing the ticket to Ryan. "Just watch what you're doing next time."

"Thank you, officer."

"You have a good day now, miss."

"You, too," she said, her voice so saccharine it would put a diabetic in a coma.

The police cruiser pulled away. Ryan sat motionless.

Finally he spoke. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" She tried to sound innocent, like she didn't know what she had done.

Ryan turned in his seat, the seatbelt digging into his chest. "You were flirting with him!"

Summer shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? He could have gone back to the car and ran you through the system, but he didn't. I think you owe me some gratitude."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious, Ryan. We could have been in big trouble if I hadn't stepped up to the plate."

"You wanted to run. If I had listened to you, we'd be on our way to Mexico by now."

"Details."

Ryan shook his head. The strangest memory came to him...

_"Don't get me wrong, sometimes she gets on my nerves, frustrates me so bad I think I'll snap. Oh, we fight an awful lot, but I love her even when I hate her...maybe especially then."_

"Ryan? You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Huh?"

"I said: 'you're not mad at me, are you?'"

Ryan sighed. No, he wasn't mad. He was something worse.

"Let's go," he said and started up the car.

* * *

Ryan had seen and done a lot of different things with a lot of different women, but somehow, with Summer, everything felt new and fresh. She brought out feelings in him he wasn't even aware he had.

Two months. Two whole months and Summer had been right. Her father hadn't come looking for her. Either he was really gullible, or just didn't care. Ryan understood the latter all too well.

They had a routine now. Things were easier...mostly.

There was still that little thing called sexual tension that had a way of creeping up on them. Ryan was never going to have sex again. Five months was enough to feel like forever. The physical part of their relationship was stunted. Some days they couldn't get enough of each other. Other days...they couldn't stand each other. That was due in part to how much Ryan wanted Summer. He knew she was inexperienced and he didn't want to rush her. There were fights that sprang out of nowhere just so he could get out of the house. It was easier when he didn't have to look at her; when he didn't have to see her smile or look at him in a way no one ever had before. He didn't want her to do something she was going to regret. _He_ didn't want to do something he would regret.

Ryan walked through the door and immediately settled down into a chair.

"Any luck selling the car?"

Everyday she asked the same question and everyday the answer was the same.

"Nope. There's not a big market for brand new BMW's in Chino, believe it or not."

Summer placed her hand on his back, rubbed gentle strokes down the column of his spine. The tension in his shoulders only intensified. "Everything okay?"

"Fine."

"Did something happen at work today?" Her hands continued the wonderful circles on his back, moving over corded muscles and releasing cramps and strains from a full day of work. It felt so good. Too good.

"No."

"Class? Everything go okay there?"

Ryan could feel her breasts as she leaned against him. The fragile string of his self-control was about to snap.

"Yeah."

"No pop quizzes?"

"Nope." If he kept his replies short enough, she would get the message.

Summer scrunched up her nose. "Then, what's wrong?"

Ryan rolled his shoulders, sat up straighter in his chair. "I really don't feel like talking right now, okay." Looking over his shoulder, he met her eyes. "And could you stop touching me?" She backed away, immediately feeling the blow.

"I'm sorry, I just-" Summer gave up searching for something to say. "I'm sorry."

Ryan felt like a total asshole. While achieving his goal, he'd hurt her in the process. It seemed he was always sacrificing something to keep her at arms length, never letting her get too close, despite how desperate he was for that intimacy.

"No, it's not you. Come 'ere," he said, pulling her down. She sank into his lap. He pushed the hair off her face, and curled it behind her ear. "I'm a jerk, okay?"

Summer jutted out her lip, pouting. "Can't say I disagree."

Ryan looked down. He was so used to just taking a girl home and having sex. It was easy. He'd never even been in a real relationship before. He wasn't sure he could be the person he was trying to turn into. And he sure as hell didn't know what she saw when she looked at him. "It's just when you touch me...it makes it hard to think about anything else."

* * *

Summer shifted, settling her legs on either side of him and felt exactly what was making it hard for Ryan to think. "Hmm, literally, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, sheepishly.

She wrapped her arms around him, locking their chests together. His breath fanned out over her neck, speeding up her heart and heating her skin. Taking his face between her hands, Summer kissed him slowly. She used her tongue to lick his bottom lip and coax his mouth open.

Ryan ran his hands up her back, got a firm grip under her arms. He lifted her with him as he stood and slammed her back against the wall.

It was what she had been waiting for. Heat. Passion. Being wanted. Being consumed by need. No judgement was being passed between them. There wasn't time for that. No time to think things through, to think logically. Summer didn't want to listen to logic or reason or anything that would take this moment away from them.

She just wanted him. Ryan.

All thoughts left her head and the only sound was their combined ragged breaths and Ryan's zipper being lowered as Summer's hand wormed between their bodies and tugged.

Ryan pulled his mouth away and leaned his head on Summer's shoulder. "Shit!"

Summer could barely catch her breath. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's not you, it's me."

Summer pushed against his chest. "That sounds reassuring."

Ryan rubbed his hand over his forehead. "No, that's not what I meant. That came out wrong. I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"Ryan, I want you. Sometimes I think I'll explode if I don't."

"I know. It's just...a lot of responsibility," he said, slowly. "I don't want to screw it up for you. You only get one first time."

"Who says it has to be, like...special?"

"Don't you want it to be?"

"It's just sex."

"It's not _just_ sex," Ryan said, sternly.

"Oh."

Ryan sighed. "I have to have a shower."

"Okay."

Summer wasn't afraid of sex. But she wasn't exactly experienced either. In all rights, she was still a virgin. Though, that was just a technicality. It wasn't like she was naive when it came to sex. She just hadn't let a boy get _there_ yet. It was the one thing that she could either give away or save like a treasure. And since all her other friends were giving it away like candy, Summer had decided a long time ago, or at least by middle school, that she was going to save it for someone she cared about, maybe even someone she loved.

And Ryan...? Was definitely someone she cared about...maybe even loved. She had a feeling that Ryan never had to try very hard to get _there_ with other girls. One look at him, right into his eyes, and most women probably stripped down and gave him permission to do whatever he liked. That idea appealed to Summer. Only, Ryan wasn't giving it up. He was being downright prudish.

Because...why? He respected her?

Great. That was always what she wanted. Someone who didn't just want her for her body.

But enough was enough.

But she would, like always, wait patiently instead of screaming for him to just fuck her already.


	9. Solo

This isn't a chapter, just a brief interlude.

* * *

Solo

He was fucking tired, horny and frustrated. Walking into the bathroom, Ryan made sure to lock the door behind him. The tension in his shoulders and back had intensified and spread to other parts of his body. He could feel his erection pressing against the denim of his jeans. It had been another hard day at work, followed by school. And on top of all of that, he and Summer had gotten into it again. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why didn't he just give in, take her right there against the wall? There was no point dwelling. He just wanted to jerk-off, clean up and go to bed.

Shaking his head, he began stripping off his greasy work shirt and dirty jeans. Pulling off his socks, he threw them beside the pile of his clothes already on the floor. He pulled down his boxers and his cock sprang out, already hard and throbbing. Ryan tried to ignore his erection for the time being as he turned on the shower and stepped inside the tub. He hung his head letting the warm water trickle down his back and soothe his aching muscles. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and let the spray soak his hair and forehead. The water dripped down his face and onto his muscled chest, progressing down his body and just catching the head of his cock. It felt good. Really good. He felt it getting harder, thickening. Keeping his eyes closed, he could picture Summer's face; her eyes blacker than stones as she looked at him that way she always did. He felt his dick twitch, desperate to be touched, to get some sort of relief. These five months of celibacy were taking their toll.

Grabbing the soap from the side of the tub, Ryan lathered down his chest, over his nipples and down his abdomen. He stopped when he got to his cock, his fingers barely brushing the head. He was a fucking idiot. If he wanted, he could just get out of the shower, walk into the kitchen, lay Summer down on the counter, strip her naked, spread her apart and fuck her until he was spent. But here he was, like a pussy, locked in the bathroom, stroking his own fucking cock for what seemed like the thousandth time since Summer had moved in. There was definitely something wrong with him. But it didn't matter so much at the moment. He had a vision of Summer in his head now -naked, her nipples hard, wet for him.

Biting his lip, he dropped the soap and let his fingers encircle his shaft, squeezing gently. He did a few quick pumps with his hand before moving down to cup his balls. He thought of Summer's hands, how small they were, and how amazing they would feel touching him. Moving his hand back to the base of his shaft, he applied pressure as he stroked upward and then back down in a controlled, slow manner, letting his thumb graze the tip each time, sending shocks of pleasure through him. He felt his heart rate increase, knew that it had to be quick tonight. He wasn't in the mood to draw it out. Clenching his jaw, he tightened the muscles in his lower abdomen. A more deliberate and urgent need took over and his hand moved to a faster rhythm, bringing him ever closer to the point of no return. There was a sudden rush of pleasure and intense gratification swelling inside him. He could feel his balls begin to tighten and he knew he was about to come. A moan escaped his throat as a spasm went through his cock. His hand worked furiously, his breath hitching in his lungs. With one final stroke, he came in spurts onto the tub basin. It was impossible to continue as his hips jerked and he lost all sense of balance. Resting his body against the side of the shower, the water flushed everything down the drain and all Ryan could do was feel like an ass as he watched.

Regaining some control of his limbs, Ryan stood up straight and finished off his shower in peace. Ryan was feeling relieved, even relaxed, when he walked into the bedroom....until he saw Summer. She was already lying in bed, her face flushed, the covers barely concealing the tiny nightgown she wore. Feeling his dick stir, he wanted to scream. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.


	10. 9

Thanks for the reviews. :)

Chapter 9

* * *

Ryan couldn't go back to the apartment. Not tonight. Not with the way Summer had been looking at him for the past few days. She was trying to break him down. Playing games. Teasing him. Tempting him. It was unsettling. 

So instead of going home to her, he went along with some of the guys from the garage to his usual haunt, Rhythm and Brews -formerly known as The Hole.

Ryan looked around. The bar was packed. There were plenty of girls that would give it up here. It was what he'd liked about the place...before. He realized he'd started calculating his life in terms of Before Summer and After Summer. The differences were stark. His habits had changed so much he barely remembered being his former self. And he wondered, somewhere deep down, if he was just acting. If he was just doing all of this -being this...standup guy-just to impress Summer. Was he really capable of staying on the road she was leading him on? Or was he going to crash and burn? It would be so easy to crumble in the wreckage, to take the easy way out. Just collect his loses and walk away.

As if his life weren't complicated enough...as if there weren't enough problems in his mind to work through...he had to catch the eye of Adelina from across the room.

Picking up her drink--some pink concoction with lots of ice--Lena strutted toward Ryan. Her movements were predatory. He didn't have to guess what was on her mind. He could read it in her hips, the way they swayed side to side, inviting him to look.

He was aware that she had been watching him all night. The alcohol in her system was making her brave, bold.

"Hey, Ryan."

Ryan stretched out in his chair. "Hey."

Taking up a chair, she maneuvered herself toward him, trapping his leg between both of hers. "Hey," she said again and smiled.

Ryan didn't reply. He watched her instead. Traced her body with his eyes. It was a damn fine body. And he'd enjoyed it several times over. It would be a lie to say he wasn't attracted to her; a lie to say she didn't turn him on. But there was something... something missing.

Lena leaned forward, giving Ryan a view of her ample breasts. She giggled in that way girls do when they've discovered their power as women. She knew what it did to him when she ran her tongue over her lips, when she touched him on his thigh so close to the epicentre of his teenage reasoning. Running her fingers into his hair, she smiled. "Wanna go to my place? My parents went out of town. Come on, Ry. It'll be just like old times. Remember how good we were together?"

Ryan sighed. It had come down to this.

Everything rested on his answer.

"I can't." The reply came easier than he thought. It felt right.

"Why not? Come on," she whispered, licking the shell of his ear. "I know you want to. Don't you remember what it was like with us? How I'd let you fuck me...over and over." She kissed his earlobe and moved down his neck, nipping as she went. Her hand moved from his thigh to the front of his pants. "Does she do that? Your little girlfriend. Huh?"

It was a test. A test for himself. Summer would never know, but he would. And he couldn't do that to her. Or himself. He couldn't screw up. Not now.

Ryan forcefully picked her up away from his lap. "I said no."

Lena looked stricken. Her eyes narrowed. "You're an asshole, Atwood!"

Standing, Ryan reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty. He dropped it on the table, feeling Adelina's eyes on him. "Take care of yourself, Lena."

"Fuck you!"

Ryan straddled his motorcycle in the parking lot, taking a moment to breathe. For the first time in a long time a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe this was what he'd been waiting for all along. Some way to prove to himself that he truly was worthy of Summer's affections. That he was, to at least some degree, that guy she wanted him to be.

* * *

Ryan hadn't come home after class. Summer barely thought about it. It was late and it had been a long day. Tired after finishing her homework and cleaning up, she decided to go to bed. 

Summer woke with a start. Something didn't feel right. Ryan still wasn't home. His side of the bed was cool and unslept in. Looking at the digital clock, her eyes could barely focus. At first, she thought it was midnight, but straining her eyes, she saw she was wrong and that it was really two in the morning. Crawling out of bed, she went to inspect the living room. Ryan was nowhere to be found. The couch hadn't been slept on and Ryan's dinner hadn't been touched. Summer felt panic rising inside her.

The small apartment felt very large and unprotected all of a sudden. Ryan's warnings came back to her. Racing to the door, she checked the lock once, twice and then a third time just to be sure.

The breeze from the open window wasn't cool, but cold. It sank into her bones and made her blood curdle. Her bare toes numb, Summer walked to the window and slammed it shut, daunted by the street below.

Her mind began to swirl. What if someone was watching her? What if something had happened to Ryan and he couldn't protect her?

The night at The Hole came back to her. How defenceless she had been. It wouldn't happen again. She needed some type of weapon, something to protect herself with. Making her way to the kitchen, she rummaged through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. Producing a large knife, Summer held it in her hand, feeling the heavy weight of it.

Pacing was getting her nowhere so she took a seat on the couch. Her back was straight and her ears were busy listening for sounds that didn't exist. The minutes moved slow. She felt so stupid. So weak.

Anything could happen to her here while she was alone.

The turn of the lock in the door caused Summer to stand up and grip the knife tighter in her trembling hands. Anyone could walk through the door. She prepared herself for the possibility that it may not be Ryan.

But it _was_ Ryan. The door flew open a little too fast and his steps were a little too crooked and heavy. The sight of him made her both sick and relieved.

Fear and anger mingled together and coloured her vision. Her first instinct was to lash out. "Where were you?!"

The stink of alcohol was on his clothes and...perfume. She noticed marks on his neck. Were they...bite marks? Her heart sank.

Ryan wouldn't look her in the eye. "I went out for a drink."

"I was worried! I-I thought, but you- You were with_ her_?"

His head snapped up. "Who?"

"You know who!"

The anger was better than fear. It was bitter and hard and felt good. "Did you fuck her?"

"What? Why would I-" He stopped. Stared. Sobered.

There were tears in her eyes. Frightened tears.

For the fist time he noticed she was shaking. And not even just a little. Her whole body was trembling. Gripping a knife so tightly her fingers had turned white, she failed to notice that she had nicked the side of her hand and blood was trickling down the underside of her arm.

"You're bleeding," Ryan said and it didn't escape him that now his own voice was shaking. The sight of blood was making his stomach turn and he knew it was his doing, his fault.

"What?"

He had to remain calm. Someone had to. "Put down the knife, Summer."

Summer looked down at the knife as if just realizing she was holding it and threw it to the ground. She touched the cut on her hand and hissed.

Ryan rushed over to her. She looked at him and he hated what he saw in her eyes. Leading her over to a chair, he crouched down in front of her and inspected the cut. It was tiny, barely a scratch. It had stopped bleeding, but it needed to be cleaned up. Grabbing some napkins from the table, Ryan wrapped them around her hand and rested it on her leg. "I'll be right back."

"No!" she said, reaching out for him.

"I'm just going to get you a bandaid." Watching him closely, Summer seemed to be deciding if he was telling the truth. Believing him, she let go of his shirt and looked at the ground, mumbling something he couldn't make out.

Returning quickly, Ryan set out the first aid kit and knelt down in front of Summer again. She would barely look at him.

Grappling with the disorganised kit, Ryan searched for something to wash out the wound. He dabbed iodine on and around the cut. Summer flinched. Ryan blew on the wound to take away the sting. Summer still refused to look at him.

"I guess I seem foolish to you."

Ryan shook his head. "No."

Summer snorted. "Come on, you must think I'm every bit as naive and cowardly as I was back when you had to rescue me at the bar."

"I don't think that," he said, unwrapping a bandage and placing it over the cut. Because what would he have done if someone had broken in? If someone had hurt her... It was too much to think about.

"You should," she said, rubbing her eye. "Because I am. I can't believe I thought- I mean, I was so stupid!" Summer stood, knocking the bottle of iodine over, letting it spill out onto the carpeted floor. It created a large stain that she refused to even look at. She was determined to get away from Ryan.

Ryan had other ideas. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him.

"Hey!"

"What?" she snapped, her eyes narrowed.

He made sure to look her in the eye, softening his voice. "I didn't fuck her. Not even close."

"But you wanted to?"

"No." Ryan shook his head. He took a deep breath.

Summer pushed him away. "Don't lie to me. I can't take it when people lie to me!"

"I'm not lying! I swear to you."

Summer looked at him for a long minute. Whether she believed him or not he didn't have a clue.

"I'm going to bed," she said and walked right into the bedroom, leaving him to clean up the mess.

After scrubbing for thirty minutes, Ryan knew the stain wasn't coming out. He needed it to; needed it to be gone. But the harder he tried, the more it spread. Reluctantly he gave up for the night.

He felt drained, both mentally and physically. Needing a shower, he walked down the hall, passing the bedroom on his way. The door was closed. Ryan couldn't bring himself to open it. Instead he passed by and entered the bathroom. Stripping down to nothing, he ran the water warm and stepped under the spray.

He used soap to get the smoke, sweat, dirt and the stink of Lena off of himself.

* * *

Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, Summer ventured into the living room. Ryan was standing in front of the window, cigarette burning away in his hand. 

"Ryan?"

He didn't move.

"I should have called." His voice was so quiet that Summer barely heard him.

"If you want to be with someone else, I'll understand."

Ryan pivoted around. "How can you even think that?"

"I'm not stupid, Ryan. I know you don't want me." Summer looked at the ground.

"What? Where would you...?"

"It's fine. I get it."

Ryan took a step toward her. "Summer, the only reason I have picked up and dragged you into the bedroom and, just, God, just explored every inch of you is because..."

"Because why?"

Ryan sighed, butting out his cigarette. "I don't even know anymore."

Saddling up to his side, she wrapped her arms around him. "If I asked you to 'explore every inch' now, would you?"

"Are you asking?"

She could tell that he wasn't sure whether he could believe her or not. Arching up on the heels of her feet, she kissed his neck, smiling when she pulled back, watching his eyes open.

She watched the bands of tension slowly snap. He was right where she wanted him; where she had been trying to get him for months. Knowing he would do anything to satiate her, she asked him with her eyes.


	11. 10

This chapter has been edited to fit under the rating of R. The original version will be made available upon request.

Chapter 10

* * *

Red. Blue. White. 

Twirling. Swirling.

Colours dancing patterns on the walls as a cop car drove past, sirens wailing.

Stillness cramped the room. Promises of kisses and much more hung in the air, waiting to either be grabbed up or crumble to the floor.

The smell of alcohol was gone. Just the essence of Summer's perfume, Ryan's soap and something indistinguishable from the kitchen, clouded the air.

Summer could feel Ryan watching her. His eyes on the crown of her head, penetrating. Summer wouldn't look up. Couldn't. The rejection would kill her.

Maybe Ryan knew that. He had to know.

She felt his fingers first. Gentle on her face where he touched her cheek and made her lift her chin. And then it was his whole body turning to hold her.

For a long time, he just held her like that. Touched her slow so he wouldn't miss an inch. His fingers ran down the back of her arms, sending wild shivers to her toes; his cheek, with the barest trace of stubble, rubbed against hers, making her aware of all the little nerve endings along her jaw; the coarse material of his jeans scratched against the thin layer of cotton against her legs, making her skin hypersensitive. And then it happened. He kissed her. And it was different than ever before. It was soft and light, but there was something there, something she'd never paid attention to. There was this energy that seemed to course between them, flooding into her body and making her feel lighter than air.

Ryan pulled out of the kiss. "Summer-"

"Don't," she said, bringing her fingers to his lips, silencing him. She was afraid to let him speak; afraid it would turn into more apologies and disappointment. His hand covered hers and gently pried it away from his mouth, kissing the bandaid on her hand before letting it drop to her side. The corners of his lips turned up as he looked her in the eyes. And she knew, this time, he wasn't going to turn her away.

Slowly, he brought his hand back up to her face. It felt cool against her cheek and she relished in the contrast. Ryan let his thumb run over her bottom lip with tortured slowness. He moved in for a kiss, so close they were breathing the same air, and remained motionless. Summer could feel her heart racing in her chest. She waited. He was so close his features were a blur, indistinguishable lines. Somehow she knew the smile was still there.

His other hand slid down her back, pulling her hips closer. She could feel him through two layers of clothes. Hard, wanting her. Wanting her the same way she'd wanted him for months. It started a hunger inside her that she'd never felt before. It was deep in her belly and she trembled. It was finally happening.

"Close your eyes," Ryan demanded. And his voice was like the sun, so warm and controlled, wrapping around her so that she had to trust him.

Summer looked at him, his face so close their noses were touching, and blinked once before surrendering to his request.

The path he took was: forehead first, temple, cheek and then chin, as he bathed her face in slow, soft kisses that she didn't think she would ever forget. So feather light, she barely felt them, but they raised the need between her legs with each brief touch of his lips on her skin. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, his teeth nipping gently. And each time she tried to kiss him, to hold his mouth to hers, he pulled away. After the third time, she couldn't take it.

She looked at him through drowsy eyes. "Please. I want-" He cut off her words, crushing his lips against hers.

It was more, it was better, it was everything, that she'd pleaded for. His lips were warm and a little bit chapped and her own parted with the slightest coaxing. His tongue slipped past her lips, teasingly exploring her mouth before tangling with hers. She gasped and moaned at the same time. The feel of his tongue in her mouth, wet and encouraging, was stirring things inside her, making it hard to focus.

Then, his hands were against the back of her thighs and he was lifting her up, walking them into the bedroom, his mouth still moving over hers, their tongues still entwined.

Summer's stomach was flip-flopping. Half from anticipation, the rest from nerves. He set her down a foot from the bed, took a step back to look at her. Summer tried to catch her breath.

She had to touch him everywhere, touch his skin against hers. Feeling him stretching and moving over her, rubbing and sliding. She figured it had to be fast. Otherwise she might back out. All her experiences with men had taught her that they were in a rush to get into her pants. But Ryan was still watching her. Desire had darkened his eyes, making them stormy-grey. She stood awkwardly while he just watched. With everything he did, he seemed to gage her reaction. He wasn't just going to have sex with her, he was going to worship her. And as much as she wanted to reach out and touch him, she craved to be touched more.

The time for teasing was over, as he reached under her shirt and pulled it over her head. His mouth came down to hers and then he moved to her chin, her collarbone, the top of her breasts. Kissing, licking. Soft, tender. He wasn't in a hurry.

Sliding her bra off her shoulder, he kissed her there, moved his tongue down to more tender skin. His hands filled themselves with her breasts, massaging them. Yanking down the lacy material, his mouth worked on the exposed skin until he had her nipple in his mouth and his teeth were toying with her. She closed her eyes. Her legs felt weak and her heart felt full. Unhooking her bra, he got rid of it completely, tossing it aside.

There was a painful throbbing between her legs now. She could feel herself getting wet for him. She needed something...something to grind into, some way to release the tension coiling inside her.

Ryan walked her to the bed until it hit the back of her knees and she collapsed onto it. It was still unmade from that morning and the sheets felt cool against her.

She moved herself up onto the centre of the bed, laying flat on her back, her head raised, and this time _she_ watched _him_. His breath was coming out ragged and strained. His clothing was ruffled and his jeans were much too tight to be comfortable. She licked her lips, the taste of Ryan still lingering there, as she waited for him to come to her.

It took him a moment before he walked the final step to the bed, his knee digging into the mattress as he lowered the rest of himself above her. His eyes clouded with emotion that bled into their next kiss. He shifted, moving to her side, one heavy leg between the both of hers.

Ryan's fingers glided across her stomach, moving downward. Fumbling with the drawstring holding up her pajama bottoms, he struggled to get them loose. Summer reluctantly broke the kiss to help ease the tight knot. Manoeuvring himself so he was straddling her, one muscular thigh on each side of her stomach, holding her in place, Ryan gripped the top of her pajamas, pulling them down her legs. Summer lifted up and helped kick them off, letting them fall to the floor. She was almost naked. There was just one scrap of material left on her body. She felt her cheeks heat, her blood begin to stir. God, he was so much closer now. They were so much closer to their goal, but seemingly still eons away.

Arching her back, she wiggled around, managing to grip his thigh between her legs, pressing her wet center against the denim of his jeans. The friction of the rough material against the soft cotton was almost enough to make her come right then. And she might have, if Ryan hadn't pulled back, taking her hands and raising them over her head so he could look at her. He kept her hands locked above her head, holding them tight in one hand while his other hand skimmed along her stomach, his finger pulling at the material of her underwear. Crooking his finger around the thin elastic band, he tugged them slowly off her hips, past her thighs and off her feet.

When his attention returned to her, his pupils were dilated. She liked the way his eyes travelled over her body, the way he sucked in his bottom lip when she tried to reach out to touch his thigh and drag him down onto the bed with her.

His mouth found hers again and a new onslaught of sensations began to roll through her. The kiss didn't hold him for long, though. He was already moving his mouth down the pulse point in her neck just as she was getting use to feel of his mouth against hers. The stretch of skin over her collarbone must have proved too tempting, because his tongue was already marking a path across it down to her breasts.

Bypassing her nipples, he licked the tender skin around her breasts until she didn't think she could stand it any longer. Replacing the loneliness of the air, Ryan allowed his tongue to find the aching tip of her breast. And then his hot mouth was over her, feeding heat against already scorching skin. Earlier, she'd sucked on his tongue and now, his mouth was applying the same pressure against her nipple. To say that he read her well was an understatement. Sinking further into the pillow supporting her head, Summer bucked, her hips rising off the bed, meeting his, her breasts pressing against his mouth in offering. Losing all sense of self-control, she struggled against him. She couldn't go one more second without touching him.

Finally, he released her hands and she was free to touch him. Lurching up, she pushed him back against the mattress so he was the one on his back, her legs pinning him down, and began her assault. She scrabbled with his clothes, wanting to touch and taste him the same way he was touching and tasting her. She wanted him naked and inside of her. More than anything she just wanted _him_.

Not able to get her fingers to coordinate, she gave up trying to undress him. Grinding into him, she bit his jaw, losing all control. She was so close. She could feel her orgasm spinning around inside her, ready to surface. She just needed... Ryan's hands against her hips halted her movements. Keeping her in his lap, he attempted to sit up. "Slow down," he said and swallowed thickly.

"I want to touch you," she said, breathily, fighting against the strength of his hands.

"You will." It was promise.

Summer held his eyes for a long minute, taking that moment to calm herself.

Thankful the buttons were already undone on his shirt, Summer slipped it off his shoulders easily, setting her targets on the long-sleeved shirt underneath. Tugging on the shirt, she pulled it from the waistband of his jeans and off his body, disappointed that there was another one underneath. The wife-beater was thin and stretched as she worked it over his head. She threw it to the floor. Just the sight of him, the sight of bare flesh that she was finally getting to touch and tongue, made her quiver. She needed him to know everything she was feeling inside. She needed him to know what he did to her, everything she could never express with words alone. Lurching forward, she pressed her lips to his chest, letting her tongue continue his brand of torture on his nipples. He hissed, his groin jerking upward.

Victory. It felt like she'd won because he wanted her and wasn't going to stop this time. And, that, no matter what, if tomorrow they decided it was a mistake, he would always be her first.

The skin of his back was taut and warm. The heat was addictive. She could feel his shoulder blades, the rise of his ribcage and the column of his spine under her fingertips. And it felt amazing. Letting her fingers continue their exploration, she felt the power in his muscles. It made her feel safe, protected. A trail of fine hair on his abdomen seemed to be leading her to the place she wanted most. She let her fingers trace the line, smiling as Ryan's stomach muscles tensed the closer she got to the waistband of his jeans.

Ryan resisted when she reached for his belt. She'd just gotten it undone when he pulled back, seizing her hand.

"Wait," he pleaded.

"I have waited. Months, Ryan. I don't think I can wait any longer!" she cried. "I want you inside me."

Ryan let out a shuddering breath. It fanned over her skin and increased her need.

Her fingers slid through his hair, marvelling at the way the soft strands slipped off her fingertips like silk. "Please, Ryan."

"Just let me..." he said and Summer didn't know what he wanted, but knew she would grant him permission to do anything.

Unwrapping their bodies, Ryan stretched out beside her, helping to situated Summer back to the centre of the bed before moving lower. She whimpered at the loss of contact.

Ryan pressed his mouth against her stomach, playfully biting a tender spot near her hip and dipping his tongue into her belly button. It made her arch up, searching for more of his touch. She struggled to keep her eyes open. It was all so overwhelming.

The air was cooling the damp areas where his tongue had just been and it was a welcome relief. Because she was burning. Spontaneous combustion wasn't possible because Ryan was the match, the fuel she needed to set her ablaze. And he was. With his wicked tongue and cunning fingers he was stroking the embers, creating a fire that ripped through her, singeing her soul.

"Ryan."

"Trust me." They were magic words that filled her head and made her apprehension slip away.

She was becoming unhinged, unleashed. Letting go. He demanded it. Wouldn't stop until she was sated.

She wanted him, needed him in a way that would never make sense to anyone else.

Then her shaking fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans and again with the zipper, until Ryan's hands covered hers and they were both shaking together as he helped her pull off his pants and toss them aside.

They were finally going to come together. He was finally going to be inside, filling her. A wash of fear flickered in her stomach for a split-second.

They had lain together in this bed many times before. The beat of his heart had lulled her to sleep plenty of times. Now his heart was beating a raucous staccato. It was different. As he lowered himself and her hips cradled him, she felt a change, a shift that happened deep inside her. She was already trembling.

He looked in her eyes for confirmation and she nodded her consent.

Ryan was gentle with her. At first they worked at a counter rhythm, rather clumsily, grasping for synchroneity until they just were. Moving together like they always had. Summer felt surmounting tension coiling in her belly.

"Ryan..." Summer whimpered as she felt the tension build to an inexplicably high peak. All the times she'd touched herself, it had never, ever, been like this. And not even what Ryan had done to her moments before could compare. It was so deep inside her, so strong.

She realized, sex with Ryan was like consuming napalm. She was exploding inside. The tiny shards flowing through her and filling every space with this wonderful energy. The rapture filled her pores as sweat seeped from her body. She struggled to hold onto the feeling, to delay the inevitable, but with Ryan's tongue against her neck, his finger pressing against her clit, drawing out her pleasure, she was helpless. There was a buzzing in her ears as the world exploded in front of her eyes. Her climax seemed to go on forever, an endless flow that wound around her and pulsed with life.

Ryan began to thrust faster. Her inner muscles were squeezing him, driving him to madness and beyond. He was whispering something in her ear. Words that got caught in the synergy between them and drowned against their skin.

She was still pulsing around him and he was still throbbing inside her, and for a moment, it seemed like it really could go on forever. It was impossible not to get caught up in it, to forget that anything existed beyond this moment.

Moving her shaking hands down his back, she touched the planes of his skin, skirting his ass and thighs, and anything else she could reach. Raising his head from the crook of her neck, he captured her lips and thrust one final time, as he lost control and came inside her. They both shuddered uncontrollably. The world itself flipped on its axis and began to rotate to their beat alone, to this new consuming rhythm.

Ryan lowered himself, shifting. Still hard inside her, he managed a few more lazy thrusts letting his head drop to her breasts while he tried to catch a breath.

Summer let her fingers brush through his damp hair, kissing his shoulder that tasted of salt. She came back to herself slowly. Realizing, with shattering force, that she could never be without him. That now, they were a part of each other.

Ryan murmured something and lifted his head.

Her eyes could barely focus enough to see his face. "What?" She was surprised that her voice sounded hoarse and that her throat was so dry.

"Too heavy," he mumbled, his arms encapsulating her as he rolled them over.

Ryan made to separate them, but Summer gripped him. "Don't. Not yet."

"Condom," he explained. Grabbing her hips, he eased out of her and they both groaned at the loss of contact. Ryan turned away from her and Summer lay back on the mattress, her head dipping into the soft pillow while Ryan disposed of the condom. Even that unglamourous task couldn't take her out of the moment. She felt overwhelmed and a little lightheaded.

Having done whatever it was with the condom, Ryan stretched out beside her, once again pulling her against his chest.

Summer couldn't quite come up with words for what had just happened. "That was..."

Ryan's eyes were heavy as he looked at her, smirking. "Yeah."

She touched her skin, wondering if she looked different somehow. It had been months. Months of anticipation and wondering, waiting for this moment to actually happen. And now it had, and it was beautiful.


	12. 11

Thanks for the reviews. This fic is rated R.

Chapter 11

* * *

Ryan layed very still. He couldn't do more than lift his head and smile down at Summer as she rested her head on his chest. The smile on his face didn't belay the torrent of emotions circulating in his brain. 

It was an odd thing to hold someone, to lie there next to them, and sort of imagine what they were thinking, but not really having a clue. Had it really been okay? Was she okay? He'd asked her that already. Asking again would seem trite. And she seemed okay. Peaceful, even.

Everything was different now.

He'd said..._something_ as he took her virginity --such a precious gift. It had been a Big Deal. So overwhelming and pressure-consuming, he might have gone temporarily insane at some point. And words just came out. Words that his mind couldn't process fast enough as they tumbled from his mouth and spilled against her skin.

It had been her first time, and, in a way, it was his too...the first time that mattered, at least. Ryan had fucked a lot of girls in his life. That wasn't bragging, it was just a fact. But with Summer...with Summer it wasn't just about getting laid. Or, at least, he hadn't thought it was.

He'd told her....things. Words that sounded a lot like love, and forever and always and she hadn't said a thing. Nothing. Not a single word.

Her nonchalance was unsettling. She was still touching him and that had to be a good sign. It meant she wasn't repulsed.

His arms ached from holding himself up and he couldn't get his breathing to regulate. He'd done everything he could to satisfy her and nearly killed himself in the process. Never again in his life was he ever going to have that much self-control.

Ryan couldn't settle. Summer, on the other hand, appeared calm as her eyes fluttered, halfway between the dreamworld and this one, cuddled against his side. And that was something different, too. Ryan hadn't ever really cuddled with anyone after sex. It was...nice.

The air still smelled like sex. Ryan tried to push away the fear pulling at his chest. He didn't want to believe they had made the wrong decision.

Summer yawned, stretching out next to him. Pulling the sheet around her body, she slid off the bed.

Ryan sat up, completely exposed. "Where're you going?"

"Shower," she said, over her shoulder.

Disappointment and fear were lodged in his throat and choked down as he got up and followed.

In the bathroom, he ran the water, getting it to a decent temperature, switched on the shower and stepped into the tub, dragging Summer with him. The water was warm as it poured down on them. It felt nice on his skin. He still didn't understand where Summer's head was at, but refused to dwell on it, refused to try to make sense of her actions.

Ryan took the soap in one hand and a washcloth in the other. Lathering up, he spread the bubbles over Summer's skin with the soft washcloth. Her nipples hardened and so did he. He could feel his erection between them, rubbing against Summer's stomach. They both looked down at the same time.

Summer smiled. She slid her hand onto his chest, farther still, until her fingers grazed the head of his cock. Smiling, she grasped his hard length and squeezed just a little. He jumped and hissed. "Summer."

Her hand was soapy and smoothed up and down his erection with little trouble until she had a rhythm going. "Relax."

And Ryan knew he'd misjudged her. Summer was bold. Ryan couldn't help thinking that this new power was partially his fault. He didn't mind so much, though. Her grip was firm and she wasn't just tugging like most inexperienced girls did. She cupped his balls and ran her thumb over the head every chance she got. He was seconds away from coming and she'd barely even touched him. That was how bad he wanted her; how much she affected him. It was exhilarating and painful at the same time.

Summer pushed herself against him. He knew what she wanted. It took everything in Ryan to deny her. "Wait."

"What?"

Ryan grabbed her shoulders, sliding his fingers up and down her back for reassurance; to let her know he wasn't rejecting her. He would never reject her again, but now wasn't the best time. He knew he had to be firm, because with the slightest hint of dissension, he would give into her. "You might not feel sore now, but you will tomorrow. It might not be a good idea."

Summer didn't seem to give it a moment's thought as she sank to her knees. Ryan's eyes went wide. She wasn't going to...? Oh God, she was. The moment her tongue flicked out and licked him, a resounding shudder broke free from his chest and worked its way down his body.

"Summer." His voice cracked. This hadn't been the reaction he was expecting.

"What?" She looked up at him, a knowing smile on her lips as she once again let her tongue find his hard length. She licked a trail up the underside of his throbbing erection, all the while keeping eye contact.

Ryan blinked. He couldn't make words form. "You don't..."

"Don't what?" she said, innocently, her tiny hand gripping him. She took the tip of his cock into her mouth and let her tongue swirl around the sensitive area. Ryan gripped the shower rod to keep himself upright, fighting the urge to thrust into her hot, moist mouth.

He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. "Have to...do this."

"No?" she teased, her grip easing, her fingers lifting off of his erection, one by one.

Ryan groaned. Oh, how the tables had turned. He supposed this was payback. After months of teasing, he was now the one at her mercy.

"Are you sure?" Her lips once again encased his throbbing cock. Stroking him with her mouth, she set a rhythm that was both frenzied and intensely erotic.

"Fuck!" Squeezing his eyes shut, stars formed on the back of his eyelids. He struggled to breathe.

And then, just like that, her mouth was gone and there was only warm air around him, making him feel empty. Her hands were rubbing his thighs, her hair was tangled and damp against her neck and breasts, her eyes black and soft as she looked up at him. "Want me to stop?"

"No," he said, raggedly. "No, don't stop."

It was complete torture. Her hand was working the same desperate rhythm, up and down his length, as her mouth was, wrapped around him. She took him in further, deeper.

Not even two days ago, he'd jerked-off just thinking about this scenario. The reality was so much better than a fantasy. Summer's small hand wrapped around him, amplifying the size of his erection. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out the steady sound of the water hitting the tub basin.

He wasn't going to last long.

The sheer amazing feeling of having her lips wrapped around his erection, her hand playing with his balls and her tongue doing the most amazing things to his cock, was too much. And then she began to hum, low in her throat. The vibrations echoed through him. "Summer," he said, in warning, but she didn't stop.

He blinked down at her and her eyes were filled with desire and want. Just the thought of it, of her wanting to taste him, made thinking impossible. He tried to stave off his impending orgasm, trying to make the moment last, but there was too much pressure and too much pleasure. His climax was starting, deep from his core and spreading out through his body. He came with a resounding grunt, his hips rocking.

Once he'd regained the ability to see, he turned to Summer. She swallowed and looked up at him with dark eyes.

Ryan was speechless.

Slowly she got to her feet and kissed him. God, he wanted her again right against the shower walls. He resisted the urge to drive into her even though he could feel his dick stirring again. Ten more seconds, that's all he would need and he'd be ready. It was too much, too fast. If Summer didn't have the sense right now to realize that, he had to for both of them.

Pulling away, he pushed the wet hair from her face. He looked at her with amazement. She just didn't know how beautiful she was.

"I'll be back. Here," he said, inserting the stopper into the drain and switching the shower off. The water continued flowing out of the tap, allowing the tub to fill. Summer grabbed a bottle of pink stuff and squirted some against the stream of water. Bubbles began to form and coat the surface of the water. Ryan stepped onto the bath mat and gave her the room she needed. His legs were still shaky and he had a little trouble keeping his balance.

Summer giggled then sighed, settling down into the bathtub and closing her eyes.

Still naked, Ryan entered the bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and throwing them into the hamper. From the closet he found an extra pair of sheets and began to make the bed.

Grabbing a few towels form the hall closet, Ryan wrapped one around his abdomen and walked back into the bathroom. Summer's eyes were still closed and when Ryan reached for the washcloth, she mumbled something incoherent but didn't open her eyes.

Ryan's second attempt at helping wash her was much more successful. Starting with her legs, he ran the cloth up and down, soap bubbles forming in his wake. Slowly, he worked up her thigh, her legs parting automatically as he rinsed the tangle of dark curls between them. That part of her body was still sensitive and she arched up as he touched her there. Ryan smiled.

He tilted his head to the side. "Better?"

Summer nodded.

Ryan pulled the plug and the water began to empty. Parts of Summer that had been hidden by frothy bubbles began to reveal themselves again. Ryan sucked in a breath. No idea at all.

Standing, Summer allowed Ryan to wrap a towel around her torso. Her arms circled his neck and her head dropped to his shoulder. Ryan understood. He was tired, too.

With ease, he picked her up. Summer wrapped her legs around him as he carried her back to what had become their room, and settled her down onto the bed. Her eyes were already closing when he got in next to her and pulled her against his chest. It felt right.

_She knocked the breath right out of me..._

_You find someone who makes you feel like that, you gotta hold onto it..._

The tightness eased from his chest. It didn't really matter what words had been said or not said, all that mattered was that Summer was in his arms and that was all he needed. On that thought, he surrendered to sleep.

* * *

Summer blinked away the light coming from the blinds as she gave up trying to remain asleep. Stretching and testing out her newly used body, she felt muscles she'd never been aware of before pull, and the kinks in her body begin to melt. She felt different: used -in a good way- and a little bit wanton. Opening her eyes, she noticed Ryan was watching her, almost with trepidation. 

"Hey," he said and it came out smooth and slow like the sex had been the night before.

"Hey." Summer smiled and the unease left Ryan's face. "I guess they were right."

"Who?" He touched the valley of her breasts with a single finger, gently tugging the thin sheet lower and lower until she smacked his hand away.

"Your ex's. You really do know what you're doing." Laying with him like this felt strange and different. She felt grown-up. So far away from the girl she had been at the time of their first encounter. Ryan seemed changed somehow, too.

Ryan laughed. It was soft and unsure. "The funny thing is, I've never felt more out of my element than I did last night."

Summer turned in his arms, her eyes seeking answers his words hadn't provided. "Why? What do you mean?"

He wasn't looking her in the eye. "It was different. Last night, with you. It was different than all those other times."

Her first instinct was to laugh to cover up the slice of pain in her chest. "Was I that bad?" she teased, dropping her voice and letting her hand duck under the sheets, inching down his abdomen. "We can always practice."

"No," he said, pulling her hand away and kissing her knuckles. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I've never felt... I mean, you felt it, right?"

Summer sobered. "Yeah, I think I did." She waited for him to say something else, but Ryan remained silent. "Ryan?"

"Hmm?"

"I think, I think I love you." The seconds that ticked by felt like forever. She grew consciously aware of how warm his skin was under hers, how the fine hairs on his chest and arms tickled her skin just a little, and how his breathing had changed. It had stilted and gone shallow. "Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

Summer bit her lip. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn't care, didn't need words to bridle how they felt about each other, she wanted him to say them; she wanted to hear them. "Say something."

Ryan sighed, wiping his hand over his face. More time passed between them and Summer tried to pull away, but he held her tight to his side. He didn't look at her when he spoke. He tilted his head to the side and focussed on the far corner of the wall. "I think I love you, too... Princess." A second later he looked down at her. Catching her eye, his pupils dilated with fierce desire and he smiled. "Better?"

"Only if you mean it."

He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. "I mean it."

A huge weight lifted off her shoulders as his voice floated around her, barely above a whisper. "Okay. Okay, good."


	13. 12

Thank you for the reviews. ;)

Chapter 12

* * *

Ryan had been right, as always. She'd been sore the next day and still a little the day after that. Ryan hadn't pushed to do anything she didn't want to do and she loved him for it. Now, though, she was ready to experiment, to find different positions and try new things. It was like she _had_ to have it...now...five minutes ago...whenever.

Ryan seemed unaware that she was about to use him for practice when she walked into the bedroom where he'd been getting dressed.

Looking over his shoulder, Ryan grabbed his watch from the table and spoke to her. "What do you want to do? You want to go out tonight? Go to the bar, maybe."

Summer felt coy. She liked catching him unaware. "Why go out to a sweaty bar filled with people when I could get you sweaty here, alone."

Yes, it was cheesy and sounded like it came out of the latest porn flick, but she liked the way his eyes darkened and the muscle in his cheek jumped after the words came out of her mouth. It was the reaction she was going for. Since they'd had sex, Summer felt sexier, thought sexier, talked sexier. Maybe it was that sex had come to dominate her mind, that sometimes she would close her eyes at the most random of moments and see/feel/hear Ryan as he moved inside her. She had dissected it, memorized her favourite parts and could play them in her head. They could be just sitting, watching televison, and her mind would wander. She wondered if Ryan was thinking about it all the time.

Ryan gave her the once over. She was wearing a short skirt and one of those tank tops she knew drove him nuts. The smile on his face was lopsided. "Good point."

"Come here." Summer reached out and touched his wrist, dragging his unclasped watch off and setting it on the dresser.

It was dark. Just a small lamp beside the bed was lighting the room. It was almost too dark to see his face, to be able to tell if his cheeks were flushed. She liked to imagine they were, though; that he was blushing from her touch. Her own cheeks were burning and the tips of her ears were warm.

Ryan's hands circled her waist, his skin hot on her midriff, his fingers seeking greater contact. Her breath caught in her throat. She should have been used to this by now. Months of foreplay should have educated her. But each time he touched her it was like he knew what she needed. Like his fingers could read the secrets under her skin.

He kept looking at her mouth. Indecent thoughts began to swirl inside her brain and a deep throb started between her legs. Leaning forward, she kissed him. Just as peck and then she moved in for more, touching her tongue against his lips, prying his mouth open and letting her hot tongue slip inside.

He tasted like toothpaste, but felt like a straight shot of bourbon pooling in her stomach. Warmth flooded her veins.

Summer could get used to this. Used to learning about the different textures, lines, curves and tastes of his skin. Knowing him better than anyone else ever could. Yeah, she could get used to that.

It had been raining earlier and the air still smelled a little musty. Underneath that, she could smell Ryan. Same soap as always, so clean and simple, she wanted to sink into him.

Summer walked him backward, breaking the kiss to push him onto the bed. He landed with an 'oomph' and she had to laugh at the look on his face. "Sorry," she said, mounting the bed and lifting herself over him. Straddling his thighs, her fingers lifted up his shirt, touching soft skin over corded muscle.

They kissed and groped and laughed. Summer could feel Ryan's erection pressing into her and she moved her hips, delicately, experimentally, rotating. She groaned and then he did.

The urgent, electric need had been unexpected. Making her hands leave him, she gripped the ends of her tank-top and pulled it off, throwing it to the ground. Her hands found him again, trembling over his shoulder and biceps and back under his shirt. Pushing the cotton up, she insisted he lift up so she could pull the shirt over his head. Her body crashed into his before he'd even finished stripping.

Chest to chest, Summer stretched out over him, feeling every ridge and angle against her. She rocked against him, balanced by his hands cupping her ass. And it was so good. And so right. She was so ready for this, ready to learn everything all over again.

Ryan's tongue found the slope of her breasts. He kissed her through the silken material of her bra, drawing his teeth against her nipple and biting down ever so gently.

Wet from his kisses, Ryan pulled down the strap of her bra, arching up to sample the skin there. Summer's breathing got shallow. She held the back of his head, pressing his face against her breasts. Their bodies tangled together, a hedonistic mass of limbs.

The beat of Ryan's heart was raging through her ears. So loud she could practically feel the vibrations.

"Someone's at the door."

She had gone dizzy and blind from his tongue. Her ears, too, had become fussy. "What?"

Ryan's voice was raw. His eyes were clouded by lust. "The door. Should we...?"

Summer looked around the room, bringing her eyes back into focus, and heard the knocking. No, they shouldn't get the door. Whoever was at the door could go to hell as far as she was concerned. But she knew, looking at Ryan, one of them were going to answer it. It could be important. Though, she couldn't imagine what was as important as this. One more slow, deep kiss and, reluctantly, she broke from his embrace.

"I'll get it," she said. Jumping off the bed, she searched for her discarded shirt, leaving him lying there alone.

Finding her shirt, she pulled it on and turned back to look at him. On his back, his flat stomach bare and jeans bulging, Ryan made a picture she very much wanted to get back to and admire. "You stay right where you are," she commanded and turned to go.

Straightening out her clothing and flattening down her hair, Summer opened the door. Her jaw dropped. "Shirley?!"

"Hi, Summer."

It had been a good day. No, a great day. And now everything was tainted. Summer eyed her father's secretary with apprehension. "What's going on? How did you know I was here?" She stepped over the threshold, looking over the other woman's shoulder to make sure she was alone. Satisfied, she stepped back inside, allowing Shirley entrance.

"Your father said you were going to France." Shirley pulled out a paper from inside her purse. She read from it. "Pontoise, France. The Saint Martin de France school." Stuffing the paper back into her purse, she looked at Summer. Her eyes were sceptical. "It didn't make sense that your car would be missing. Your father was so busy he wouldn't have noticed and your step-mother was always... Well, that's neither here nor there. I took a chance and ran a check. There was a ticket..." Shirley again relied on the contents of her purse. She pulled out a card with neat scrawl on it. "That was a few weeks ago... The rest was easy to figure out. I should have thought about coming to Chino sooner. After all, it's where you ended up last time."

Summer folded her arms across her chest in defiance. "I'm not going back!"

"No, hun," Shirley said in a soft voice. She reached out and touched Summer's arm. Summer recoiled. Shirley tilted her head to the side and took a deep breath. "That's not why I'm here. Your father and step-mother... How do I say this...?" She sighed. "There was an accident."

"An accident?" Outside, the storm started up again, brewing with a different intensity. The wind howled against the window. Clouds took over the sky outside, making everything go black. Rain began to come down hard. It mirrored the typhoon inside Summer's brain.

Ryan, hair a mess and clothes dishevelled, came to Summer's side. "What kind of accident?"

Shirley's face paled. "I've been trying to find you for nearly a week. Their plane... Oh sweetie, he was on his way to see you."

"Oh, no." Summer's stomach dropped. She was shaking her head in disbelief. They couldn't be....

"I'm so sorry," Shirley said, swallowing hard. "You'll have to contact Mr. Delaney at his office and he'll help you make the arrangements."

"A-Arrangements?"

"For the funeral, dear."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Right. Right, the funeral." Summer took a few short breaths. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"They've been cremated already, but people will expect a funeral. I can help if you'd like."

She felt numb, outside of herself. "O-okay." It was hard to talk past the lump in her throat.

"I'd better be going." Shirley stopped at the door. "I'm sorry, Summer."

"Yeah," Summer replied, only half-aware she was speaking at all.

The door closed behind Shirley with a soft click. Summer turned to Ryan, her eyes exploring his face, searching for something that would make sense. "It's my fault, Ryan. They never would have been on that plane if I hadn't lied. Oh, God!"

"It's not your fault," he said, walking her over to the couch. They sat down together. Summer was shaking her head very slowly. She felt like she was living through a nightmare. This couldn't be happening.

"I don't even know what to feel. They were practically strangers. But he was my dad and I can't even remember my real mother, you know?"

"I know."

Summer stood. Pacing the room, she bit her nails and looked around without really seeing anything. Grabbing Ryan's cigarettes, she pulled one out of the pack and struggled to light it.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?!"

Ryan sighed. "You don't even smoke."

"Today I do!" she snapped, igniting the cigarette. Summer inhaled deeply. She could feel the smoke pass through her lungs and she did her best not to choke. Another drag and she was coughing violently.

Ryan took the cigarette from her fingers, butted it out and patted her on the back. "Come 'ere." Summer let him hold her in his arms. It felt good and safe.

* * *

Summer watched Ryan from the corner of her eye. So confident and sure in his movements even when he knew she was watching him. She had passed out and when she'd woken up to find him missing, she'd bolted upright in bed until she heard the sound of the shower running. She'd slipped off the bed and taken off her clothes, pulled on one of Ryan's old t-shirts that smelled like him, and a pair of his boxers and then gotten under the covers and waited.

Boxer shorts. He was looking for boxer shorts. They had a bad habit of disappearing, especially since she so enjoyed stealing them from him and wearing them to bed. She knew he wasn't going to find any; she'd taken his last pair and was currently wearing them under the covers.

His hair was wet from the shower he'd just had and the water dripped down his back and sank into the towel around his waist. Summer watched several drops slide down his skin before something inside her seemed to flip and she realized how badly she just wanted to forget. Wanted something...no, _needed_ something to help her forget. Ryan. She needed him in a way she'd never needed anyone.

She'd insisted on waiting until the morning to go back to Newport Beach. Ryan was eager to please and had agreed. The thought of going back was killing her. Just thinking about it made her chest ache. So she didn't. Wouldn't. She focussed on the drops of water on Ryan's back as she got out of bed.

Ryan turned and watched her. She felt it. Felt his eyes on her skin. Now was the time to be sure, confident. To prove to herself that she was a different person than she had been. Stronger.

Gripping the ends of her t-shirt, she pulled it over her head, baring her breasts. Next she let Ryan's boxers slip off her body and pool at her feet. All evidence of her femininity was on display. For him. For herself. Without shame.

Ryan stood motionless. His eyes travelled over her and she refused to blush. Refused to be modest, if only this one time. She needed this. Needed to feel in control. Ryan let her. He wouldn't allow her to be embarrassed. She loved him for it.

It took one tug for the towel to fall to the floor and then she was in his arms, her body angling to accept his. His skin was warm and damp where their bodies met. She couldn't wait for kisses. The need was too great. It pressed down on her like a vice. Sensing the urgency, he drove inside her, pressing her to the wall, wiping everything else from her mind. It was more than she expected and her orgasm built rapidly, firing through her bones as Ryan thrust inside her, taking her away from herself. When she closed her eyes, she imagined the world had faded away. Nothing mattered but what was happening between them. None of it mattered. Not phone calls, caterers or an inheritance. Not even a box of ashes.

She didn't remember falling asleep and her body ached when she woke up. Ached in places she didn't know she had. It wasn't a unpleasant painful ache, though. More like the kind of ache she got after exercising when she hadn't for a while.

Ryan was asleep. His breathing even and shallow. She watched him for a long time before she let her head fall onto his chest and listened to his heart. It was strong and steady. It calmed her.

Summer slept most of the drive to Newport. Or at least, pretended to. Ryan couldn't be sure which was correct. The night before had been rough on her. She'd tossed and turned and murmured in her sleep. Once, just past midnight, she woke up and felt around for him next to her. Seeing he was there, she latched onto him like she was afraid he would disappear. He wasn't sure what to say to take the pain away. The truth was he was powerless to help and felt as much.

The house was cold and empty when they entered it. Ryan was overwhelmed by the size of it. It was bigger than his middle school had been. It was the kind of home people dreamed of owning. The kind of place his mother had always spoken so highly of; what she would have bought had her lottery numbers ever paid out: '_You and me, Ryan, and a big house overlooking the ocean...'_ Dawn had never been lucky and she always said you needed luck to own something so beautiful. Ryan didn't see what was so special about it. He doubted Summer ever felt that lucky living in it.

An iciness stirred his blood, making it run slow so that everything felt magnified. He felt small in this house. Small and cold. He imagined Summer had felt the same way when she had lived here. Trapped.

Summer didn't offer to take him on a tour. Instead, she led him up the stairs and down a long corridor. Opening the door to a room at the very end of the hall, Summer walked through it and he followed.

She looked tired, like a little girl ready to be put down for her nap.

"This is your room?" Obvious question. Of course this was her room. Everything was purple and pink. Ryan felt very young standing in it and wondered if Summer felt the same. It was like someone had freeze-framed her childhood and tacked it onto the walls.

"_Was_ my room," she corrected.

"Why don't you lay down."

"I'm fine."

They both knew that was a lie, but Ryan refused to push. Summer would rather crash out of exhaustion than admit to being tired. He knew she thought it made her weak. It didn't. It only made her human. But he understood, so he wouldn't force her to do anything.

The doorbell echoed throughout the house. A long, haunting sound.

Ryan followed Summer down the stairs and stood behind her as she answered the door. Shirley stood there, dressed in black and holding a casserole dish. She smiled.

"Hi. I thought you might be hungry," she said, looking at the casserole. "Well, here." She shoved the covered dish into Summer's arms. It was Summer's turn to stare idly at the dish. Shirley cleared her throat. "I made you an appointment with Mr. Delaney for four o'clock. Think you're up to it?"

Summer nodded, though Ryan couldn't be sure if she had even understood the question.

* * *

Summer stared and tried to pay attention but her brain just wouldn't cooperate.

"People will be coming around seven."

"What?"

"I-I know it's not my place, but I went ahead and called the caterers, put an announcement in the paper, contacted your father's friends... It's just, you're so young, and I... Well, I knew you didn't have anyone else and I couldn't let you go through this alone."

At a loss for words, Summer looked to Ryan for help.

"We appreciate it, really," he said and took Shirley's hand.

"I'm sorry," Summer said after a minute. The tears were already welling up in her eyes.

Shirley cocked her head to the side and touched Summer's cheek. "Don't be sorry, sweetie. I wish there was more I could do."

Summer leaned into the touch. True, she didn't know Shirley well, but she was kind and sweet and motherly. Summer longed for that motherly affection so desperately, she'd take whatever small dose she could, even from a practical stranger.

Realizing what she was doing, Summer stepped back, embarrassed. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shirley looked between Summer and Ryan, forcing a smile. "Things'll get better," she assured them and turned to leave.

It felt like an empty promise. And Summer felt betrayed.

Ryan closed the door, locked it.

Summer looked down at the dish in her hands.

A casserole. Shirley had brought her a casserole. Why did people always bring food when someone died? It wasn't like Summer could eat anything. It wasn't like she was hungry. She didn't get it.

* * *

They were put in an office with large leather chairs and big windows. Summer stared straight ahead at the painting on the wall. It was an abstract. Deep blues and yellows swirled together. She wondered if it was supposed to be calming. It just made her feel dizzy.

Ryan was by her side. He seemed to always be at her side now.

The room was too cold and Summer's flesh broke out into goose bumps. She listened as the will was being read without retaining much of what was being said. There was something about the overseas investments and property down South that she knew, without looking at the document, had belonged to her grandfather. The house was hers. The cars, the boat, jewellery... all of it hers.

Summer continued to look at the painting. She concentrated on the details. If she didn't, she would burst into tears.

They hadn't been bad people, her parents. They were flawed like everyone else. Just as human as everyone else. And everything they had worked for, all that they had treasured, was now hers. They couldn't take it with them. It seemed so silly. So unimportant. It was just stuff. Obtained by sacrificing time with her. They knew every bit of money they had, every fine jewel and expensive foreign car. It was all there in black and white.

What was the point to it? Where was the life or the things that mattered?

Summer pulled her eyes away from the painting. She turned her head to the left and looked at Ryan. He was what mattered. He was her life now. She was going to make it count.

She took his hand and smiled.


	14. 13

This is rated R. This is the last chapter so thank you everyone for your reviews.

Chapter 13

* * *

Summer had clothes back at the house she could slip into before people started to arrive but Ryan needed a sports jacket. He didn't own anything acceptable to attend a funeral in--even if it wasn't a real funeral--especially a funeral in Newport where every action was scrutinized.

"Summer?"

"In here." Ryan followed the sound of her voice into a large bedroom. Summer was sitting on the bed clutching an article of clothing. "Hey," she said.

"Hey." He sat down next to her and touched her back. He'd been tongue-tied and nervous the whole day. He wasn't sure what he could say that would comfort Summer. In his heart, he knew nothing could.

"This was their room. I haven't been in here since I was, like, five. It's changed a lot," she said, looking around the room. Ryan watched her. After a minute Summer shook her head and stood. "Here, this should fit you." She handed him a suit jacket and made to walk out the door.

Ryan grabbed a hold of her arm. "Hey, are you sure you're up to this?"

They both looked up at the sound of the doorbell. People were arriving and more would follow. "I have to be, don't I? Don't worry about me; I'm used to these people."

Ryan brought his hand to the side of her face, moving the hair out of her eyes. "I don't care about these people, Summer, I care about you."

Summer smiled. It was fake and watery. Ryan's chest constricted. "I'm fine. Now, put that on and come downstairs."

"Summer."

Breaking away from his grasp, Summer looked him in their eye. "What am I supposed to do, Ryan?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I wish that was true." Her voice was full of sorrow. Ryan stood motionless, watching as she exited the room.

* * *

Summer hated herself for playing her role as the 'good daughter.' So many times in the past she'd strolled into parties and acted as if her family was a happy cohesive group, if only to drum up more business for her father, or to make her step-mother look good in front of her Newpsie consorts. And now she was doing it one last time. Playing the dutiful daughter while everyone looked at her and believed the lies they had been perpetuated throughout the years.

Summer squeezed between the mourners to the spread of food. She couldn't remember the last time she ate. It was probably before Shirley had delivered the devastating news. It was definitely before the casserole gesture. Looking at the appetizers didn't increase her hunger, but she knew she had to eat. Picking up a sandwich, she held it to her mouth and forced herself to take a bite. The bread was stale. It scraped the skin off the roof of her mouth as she chewed. She couldn't even taste anything.

If she heard one more story...one more lame joke or false condolence... Summer was going to scream from the top of her lungs. She had to escape. Retreating to her room might have seemed like the coward's way out, but she couldn't pretend any longer. She couldn't face these people anymore.

It had yet to sink in. Her father and step-mother were dead. Dead. That meant she had no living parents. No relatives. No one.

Slipping up the stairs unnoticed was easy. Everyone was too busy gossiping to notice her retreat.

Inside the sanctity of her room, her stomach churned. She was going to be sick. Running to the bathroom, she got down on her knees and braced herself against the toilet bowl. Dry heaves wracked her body and made her stomach pull tight. The tears running down her cheeks were the only thing making a splash in the toilet water.

Everything in her body hurt. Pulsing, pin drops of pain, that faded and came back worse than before, paralysed her. It was the worst pain in the world. And she knew she was making it happen. It wasn't real. There was nothing wrong with her, but the stress bore down on her like a heavy fist and released itself within her immune system. The word alone wrapped around her brain and squeezed until it was all she felt. Blackness threatened to overwhelm her and she fought against it. She was reminded of a poem, by Dylan Thomas, they'd read in English class last week. _Do not go gentle into that goodnight. Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

When she'd shed all her tears, Summer pulled herself up and stared at herself in the mirror. She was angry, confused, resentful and in mourning. But she was alive.

Shaky legs walked her back into her bedroom where she let herself fall on top of her comforter and grip the soft material in her fists.

The minutes ticked by and later-though, she was uncertain how much time had passed- Ryan entered her room looking just as tired as she felt. He mounted the bed and wrapped his body around hers, hugging her into his chest. "You okay?"

"No." It was the only word she could manage. She wasn't okay. She might not ever be okay again.

He kissed her neck and squeezed her hand. "Talk to me."

"I don't know what to say. All these people are here for my parents and I don't know anyone." She turned in his arms so she could look him in the eye. "And, all of this... It's all mine. All of it. The house. The cars. The money. It's all mine and I don't want any of it. I just wanted to be important, to matter."

Ryan rubbed circles on her back, holding her so close she could hear his heartbeat.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think he loved me, even just a little?"

Ryan didn't hesitate. "Of course he did."

Summer thought about it. It had to be the truth. She had to believe in something now. A moment ago she'd felt so lost. And now... Well, Ryan had found her, hadn't he? "I'm so tired of being alone, Ryan."

"You're not anymore"

Salty tears were running down her cheek. She could taste them in her mouth, but she was too tired to brush them away. She was just so fucking tired. "I know. I know that, I do. I'm just tired. Aren't you? I don't want to pretend anymore. Let's just send everyone away and lay in bed and just hold each other."

"I'll go tell everyone to get lost."

Summer pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You will?"

Ryan smiled softly. "Yeah."

Summer nodded. It didn't matter what people would think anymore. She just wanted everyone to go away, except for Ryan. She wanted to keep him close. "Okay, okay. I'll stay here."

* * *

Ryan sucked up his pride. He'd have to do a little schmoozing to get rid of the crowd. Be falsely polite. That tended to be the trick with these people. He made the rounds, asking individuals to please see themselves out. It was taking its toll. Desperate women insisted on clinging to him with fake concern in their eyes for Summer, and men in expensive suits kept slipping him their business cards. 'That poor girl. Is she your girlfriend?' 'Invest wisely. Give me a call if you need advice.' Ryan got sick of it and decided that polite had never been a word he particularly liked, much less abided by. These people didn't give a damn about Summer. Sick of the hypocrisy, he insisted the people that continued to doddle should put down their drinks and get out of the house before he got irritated with them and did something he didn't want to. It was an idle threat, but it cleared the room and freed him up to go back to Summer.

She was still curled up on the bed when he came back to her room. The blankness hadn't left her eyes. Ryan was starting to get worried.

"Everyone's gone," he whispered as he got on the bed with her.

"Really?"

She sounded distant. It frightened him.

"It's just you and me." Ryan wanted to help. He _needed_ to help. If she were an engine he could look through one of the manuals Randy kept around the shop and figure out what to tweak to solve the problem. But Summer wasn't an engine and he didn't know how to fix her.

"Thank you," she said.

There were tears in her eyes. Ryan brushed one off her temple as it fell. Running his fingers through her hair, he attempted to comfort her. "Have you figured out what you want to do yet?"

Summer closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, there was life and fire shining through the blackness. "Sell everything. Give it away to charity. Rent it out. I don't know. Do I really have to think about it? I just want... I need you."

With a comforting smile, Ryan pulled her closer. In that moment, she looked so tragically beautiful. It didn't scare him anymore that he would do anything for her. He'd do anything to get that broken look out of her eyes. "I'm here."

Her eyes fluttered to his lips, then back to his eyes. "No, I _really_ need you. I-I want..." Her tiny hand landed on the buckle of his belt and Ryan knew what it was she was trying to say.

Together they peeled off her clothes and then his, until they were both naked on the bed she'd slept in since childhood. It was awkward. It felt like it was the first time he'd touched her. He wasn't sure where to start.

Obliging her should have been easy. But she was operating out of a sense of urgency and desperation. She was working through her grief, trying to figure out the preciousness of life through him, with him. And he wasn't sure he could do and say all the right things. There was so much of her he wanted to touch and taste, but there didn't seem to be time. What she wanted was to feel secure and safe, to feel connected. And maybe he needed that too. Because for the first time in both their lives they had someone that mattered; someone that chose to see and accept them for what they were.

He skimmed his fingers over her back, slowly moving over the curve of her hip until they were pressing against her thighs, encouraging her to open her legs. She was already wet when he finally touched her. Summer closed her eyes, pulling her lip inside her mouth. Wiggling against the pressure of his hand, Ryan didn't need to do much before her breath was unsteady and her hips were rocking, riding his fingers. A moan broke free of her throat and she came against his hand, her shuddering breaths fillings the silence.

Her eyes were black with desire when she opened them. She released her lip and Ryan could see bite marks swelling where her teeth had been. Throwing her leg over both of his, Summer straddled him. The response was instant. He wanted her and he was sure she could feel him hard against her, but she didn't move. At length, she stroked the hair from his face, touching his temples lightly and just staring at him.

When her eyes finally left him, she let her mouth find his nipples, first one and then the other. Heat spread though his body from her warm mouth, her hot tongue and her vicious teeth. Ryan let her set the pace. Which, later, he would regret. Because Summer knew exactly how to tease him; how to work him into a frenzy. She rocked against him. The small movement sent tremors through his body. Summer smirked, lifting herself so they weren't in such intimate contact. Her hand played with his cock, working it from root to tip with excruciating slowness. She was killing him and she knew it.

Kneeling above him again, she slowly lowered herself onto his shaft only to stop and catch his eye. She rubbed herself against the head of his cock, ever so slowly, gyrating her hips. It felt like his entire body was burning. Again, she lowered herself, only to rise up, grazing his flesh as he hissed, and then sliding back down, tightening her muscles around his throbbing erection. Sliding her fingers across her chest, she let them linger on her breasts before bringing them down between her legs as she touched herself. It was a sight that left his mouth dry, and, if possible, made his cock even harder. Something primal roared in Ryan. If he didn't have her soon...

Eyes closed in concentration, Summer bit her lip again and arched her back, pulling him deeper inside. All the way inside this time. She was so tight, wet, and hot, gripping his cock like a vice. Moans and sighs fell from her lips as she sought her release, trying to drag him with her.

His control slipping, Ryan found her hips with his hands and pulled her down sharply, making them both moan. His hips thrust upward as she bucked above him, her breasts bouncing. Moving his hands from her hips, he filled one hand with one of her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers and found her clit with his other hand.

Her head snapped back, her hips grinding into him at an excruciating pace. "Fuck, Ryan..."

He flipped them over. It was all the incentive he needed. He was too close to the edge to keep going the way they were. If he came first, he was afraid that she would forsake her own release. He had to get her off first.

Kissing her hard, his slipped his tongue into her mouth and felt the need and heat bleed into him. He absorbed the sorrow on her tongue, trying to banish it away. Pressing kisses anywhere his mouth could find, Ryan thrust inside her, pushing deep and fast, bringing Summer closer to orgasm while trying to delay his own. He could feel her tightening around him. "That's it," he whispered raggedly against her ear, encouraging her. Her hips raised off the bed, and her hands found his shoulders...back...ass. Wrapping her legs around his legs, her feet pressing against his calves, she brought him in deeper still. He could hear the hitch in her breath, knew she was right there. Jerkily, she convulsed around him, dredging out his own climax a second later.

It had been quick and clumsy, but he knew it was what she had needed.

Summer had been petting the back of his head when he rolled them over and settled underneath her, but now her hand had stilled and her breathing had evened out. Feeling wetness on his chest, Ryan raised his head to try to look at Summer. What he saw confused him. She was...crying? "Summer?"

"I'm sorry."

He gently rolled her over so he could look at her, propping his head up with his arm. "Hey, hey. What are you sorry for?"

Summer brushed the tears off her face and turned her head. "The sad sex."

"The what?"

Summer sighed. "The way I keep making you have sex with me because I'm so sad and it makes me feel alive. You know, Sad sex."

Ryan laughed. He couldn't help it. Not even the indignant look on her face could stop the smile on his face. "Making me have sex with you? That's not what happened here," he assured her, shaking his head, a last chuckle escaping his throat. "I'll take any kind of sex I can get. Even sad sex. Okay?"

She looked at him shyly through her eyelashes. "Really?"

"We can do it again if you want? Right now. Come on." Ryan grabbed her hips and pressed her body flush with his so she could feel just how serious he was.

"Stop it!" she squealed. "You're seriously not upset?"

"No." He leaned forward and captured her lips, kissing her slow. Pulling away he watched Summer lean against her elbow, supporting her head with her hand, mimicking his pose.

Her eyes were serious again. The last remnants of mirth faded.

* * *

"Remember last time you promised me you'd be there when I ran away again?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Make me another promise, Ryan."

Ryan smiled and warmth flooded into her stomach. "Okay, if I can," he said, drowsily.

"No, you have to! You have to do this."

Ryan's eyes were wide and she could tell she had his full attention. "Okay. Okay, what?"

"We fight, right? We fight and we get upset at each other because it matters; because some things are just worth it, right? But we don't mean it, do we? We don't ever mean the things we say, not really." She wasn't making sense and she knew it, but she couldn't stop the torrent of words that slipped from her mouth. She needed him to understand something she didn't even quite get.

"Summer, you're losing me."

Summer took his hand. "Promise me, Ryan. Promise me that when we're very old and I've lost my looks and gotten fat and you've gone bald, promise me we'll still fight."

Summer dreamed that fighting would keep their love alive. She dreamed of these fights and of the love they explored and exploited; furious love interwoven with deep, aching passion that could only be controlled by these fights, all-out screaming matches, without fear and regret. A love that burned like iodine. Love that accepted everything, spread and healed itself. Honest love. Love they would fight for because it mattered.

Ryan's brows crinkled in confusion. "What?!"

Summer dropped his hand and brought her hand to his face, smoothing out the lines on his forehead. He relaxed instantly. "Don't shut down on me like you sometimes do; the silence would kill me. I mean, I know we're young and we don't know what's going to happen-" Summer stopped, collected herself. A future without Ryan was almost too painful to think about. "I just feel like we'll be together, like somehow we'll make it--" She was well aware that she was just rambling now and half the things coming out of her mouth weren't making sense. "That's not the point, though. The point is: you have to promise me, whether we're here or in Chino or anywhere else, promise me we'll always fight and you'll let me smash things and call you names I don't mean and be loud and you'll tell me I'm being a spoiled Princess and you'll tease me about it later, but we'll never mean it and we'll both know it... and then we'll make up all night until neither one of us can move. Promise me we'll always fight like that."

"Summer."

She was adamant about this. It was what her parents lacked all their life: a reason to fight. Her life had been filled with too many silences. And she didn't want that for her future. It wasn't that she wanted to fight with Ryan because she didn't. She just wanted the potential for things to be important enough to fight for. Because once a person stopped fighting, they gave up. And she didn't ever want to give up on her love for Ryan. "Promise me, Ryan."

Ryan was silent for a long time and then he smiled. "You're not going to shut up until you get your way, are you?"

"Nope. I'm a Princess; it's what we do," she said, half sniffling, half laughing.

Ryan leaning in, pressing his lips against hers and then pulled away. "Okay, I promise."

The future was a giant haze, but one thing was clear. They weren't running anymore. They'd found their home in each other. Whatever they did, it would be together. Always. Forever.

* * *

End.

Thanks once again. :)


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